Spring Break…For My Nails

For three decades, I did not care about my nails. As a result, they were usually more than a little scruffy: peeling, dry, chipped, and filed (or, more accurately, broken) to different lengths.

My desire to have pretty nails coincided almost to the day with giving birth; all of a sudden, I had to let go of any reasonable certainty that I would be able to leave the house and interact with other human beings while looking anything close to presentable, and something about having polished, manicu...