a real nail biter 

I admit, I am a fairly anxious person. I’m not proud of that fact, but it is a fact. The main character of this blog, Harpo, is my dear father. I’ve described him in detail and I think it’s safe to say his anxious personality shines through every blog post. I have also been very forthcoming in saying that he and I are a lot alike. Anxious individuals typically have a tick, or a vice, or a habit. Harpo’s is talking to himself. When he has a lot on his mind he will whisper to himself every thought rambling through his head. I cannot even count how many times I would be driving down Second Street in Odessa see my dear old dad speed-walking down the sidewalk having a full blown conversation with himself. Hand motions and all. It looked like he was talking to an imaginary friend next to him. My favorite thing to do in that moment was to lay on the horn to scare him. He’d temporarily snap out of it and wide-eyed scan the street to see who honked and then wave. One second later he’s back in that conversation. 

My tick is nail biting. I hate that I do it, but when I’m stressed or bored, I go to town on my nails as if I haven’t had a decent meal in three months. This bad habit drove my dad crazy and he would make it his personal mission to loudly yell at me “GET YOUR FINGERS OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!!” Didn’t matter if we were in church on Sunday, he would swat my hand away and loudly draw attention. Or he’d threaten to put dog poop on my hands. To which I would laugh and say, “Jokes’ on you dad we don’t have a dog! BUT I promise I’ll stop biting my nails if you let me get a dog!” And we all know how that turned out (I LOVE YOU LINDA).

I’ve attempted to quit my bad habit. But what can I say, I’m weak. I’ve tried manicures but those are too expensive, don’t last long, and the women at the salon always tell me my eyebrows need to be waxed. NO THEY DON’T! I’ve tried and failed “giving it up for Lent” or as a New Year’s resolution. What a thing to give up considering the whole meaning behind Lent. Plus what happens after Easter? Did I honestly think I wasn’t going to go back to my old habits?! Foolish human!

Since none of my tricks worked, I decided to go back to Harpo’s threat. I mean, I have two dogs.

J – O – K – E – S




I did try the next best (or worse depending how you look at it) thing though – this stuff. You paint it on and it dries clear. Looks harmless but that it is NOT. As soon as you bite your nail, the most awful, bitter and disgusting taste invades and offends your taste buds. Seriously I’m not exaggerating. Case in point – my brother has the same bad habit and somehow I convinced him to let me paint one nail on his hand. Three days later he called me madder than hell because the taste of  the nail polish was ruining his day. Kept him from biting his nails though! And it works like a charm on me. A terrible, torturous, yucky charm. I will continue to use it… and will probably paint it on JP’s nails while he’s sleeping. Because that’s just too tempting. 

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