My mother-in-law is coming to visit today, for the weekend. Because she is allergic to dogs, this means I brush the dog really well and clean the house. No problem.
I will also bathe Widget and make him appealing so she’ll forgive the crying and crankiness that is his colic (being slowly outgrown!!). That right there? HUGE PROBLEM.
It’s a problem because I know, I have known for days, that I must once again battle the Claws of Pain. I hate the Claws of Pain the way Flick hates frozen telephone poles after his tongue stunt. I hate the Claws of Pain the way we all hate that driver 3 cars in front of us who isn’t signaling before switching lanes while going 45 mph on the freeway.
In case you’re not familiar with the Claws of Pain, let me explain.
I cannot file Widget’s nails. They’re too thin for me to manipulate, and trying to do so has resulted in blood and I will not tolerate that. So I clip them. I clip one halfway across and tear it the rest of the way. I do this because I like them shorter than biting will accomplish and I’m incapable of just tearing the entire thing. Like many babies, I’d imagine, Widget does not care for nail maintenance. As a result, it takes about 30 minutes to cut 10 nails. It’s a humongous PITA. I hate it. But if I don’t do it, his nails (that are clipped/torn straight across) grow longer. Eventually the corners of the nail get long enough to feel. Widget is grippy right now (not grabby because I still can’t get him to even bother to hold a damn toy, just my hair and his bib in front of his face at feedings), so that means the nails dig into my delicate neck-skin. Hard. Then he drags them along my neck. They are the Claws of Pain.
The Claws of Pain are evil incarnate, and in our epic struggle, I’d say it’s a tie.