Whenever we have company, which isn’t very often, I have a set routine. Throw out all the trash, hide the clutter in a closet and smuggle my nail polish somewhere it can’t be seen. I have an embarrassingly large collection of nail varnish. I have stopped buying new ones (for now) because I feel a little guilty for having spent so much money on them (though they were on sale) and it’s annoying when Eli rolls his eyes when I spot new ones I want, but there is always the guilty hope that the nail polish fairy with surprise me one day with some Butter London, Deborah Lippman or Chanel.
So what does this story tell you about me besides the fact that I just failed the nail polish CAGE questionnaire? That carrots (and tumeric) should come with a warning label: Will dye skin and nails orangey-yellow, which leaves me quite peeved. It’s not permanent, but it does take a while to scrape off.