Long Fingernails & Anniversaries

As I sit here this morning, up since 3:30am, contemplating life (cleaning out a basement full of memories will do that to a person), I happened to notice my fingernails. They're long-ish, which is unusual for me. For as long as I can remember, I've been a nail-biter. I can vividly remember my grandmother saying many, many years ago, "Quit biting your nails! Your hands would be so much prettier if you'd quit biting your nails."

Try as I might, I never could grow fingernails. The allure of biting even the shortest white tip was just too great. Grandma is long gone now; passing a few years ago, but to this day, should I neglect to bite my fingernails and they begin to grow past my fingertips, I think of her fondly. I like to imagine she's proud that on occasion, I do manage to quit biting my fingernails long enough to grow semi-feminine nails.

Yesterday was my and Mike's 16th wedding anniversary. A grand celebration it was not. He worked. I worked. Afterward, we took the kids out to dinner at Burger King (I'm in love with their new soda machine!) and then came home to relax a little before bed. Nothing spectacular - a pretty normal, nothing-out-of-the-ordinary kind of day, but I'm OK with that. There's something comforting in the fact that you don't have to go out of your way to impress anyone, and after 16 years of marriage, it's alright if you just want to relax.

We had talked about what we might do for our anniversary, but in the end, just being together on the couch in front of the TV was celebration enough.