I’m pretty sure I neglected to mention it, but a thin, sickly-looking nail had begun to grow over my left big toe. It was growing unevenly, faster on the side where the doctor had “surgically” removed it, and slower where it had been forcibly removed by the soccer playing dynamo at the park. Nonetheless, it was growing.

And then, one fateful day, as we were going about our normal Sunday routine and hanging out at Grandma and Grandpa’s, me in my sandals, the Monkey got too close and kicked that toenail off too.

Go ahead, read it again.

No, he didn’t kick it off from the nailbed this time–more like it tore because it was so thin. Mercifully, because it was not attached to the skin, it didn’t hurt at all this time. I was instantly concerned, however, because now the nail was torn, and my female readers especially will understand that once a nail is torn, it comes off much more easily.

From that day on, I kept the toenail covered with a bandaid contstantly.

Yesterday, the Lamb noticed that the one end that was growing faster might, in her opinion, be ready to be trimmed. I wondered if I could do it myself without hurting the rest of the nail, as, sure enough, the tear was now sliding across the width of the toenail. Upon closer inspection, only one small corner of the nail was actually attached on the left side. I wondered if it might be necessary to remove it again. I made a mental note to try to see the podiatrist as soon as possible.

Then, this morning, as I was preparing for my run, the top of the nail got snagged on my sock and guess what? Yep, you guessed it–the entire nail came off. Again.

On the up side, this is the nicest that toe has looked since I lost the toenail. I might even add pictures later.