One thing they never tell you about in parent skool are the talons. Babies' nails grow really quickly, and by the time they are Jamie's age, they're quite sharp and rather offensive weapons. When they are little, the nails are so soft that you are supposed to be able to just peel them off. This route never appealed to me as I envisaged trying to peel off a slither of nail and taking the whole nail bed out. Consequently I've opted for clippers.
The problem here is that their fingers are so small that it's quite difficult to see what you're doing. That and the fact that they are quite wriggly at times means it is easy to nick them.
Jamie's nursery had a message up on Friday about keeping nails clipped as they can be quite scratchy. This I know from personal experience of Jamie Scissorhands, who has been known to lash out in the manner of a cornered alley cat. He also has quite a sore nip on him and has lain waste to my arms in the past to the extent that I look like a junkie or a battered husband.
So I thought I'd better sort out his nails this morning before nursery. He's actually a lot better at this than he used to be and will sit quietly on my knee and observe proceedings quite calmly. This didn't stop me cutting into the top of his right index finger this morning. After an initial yelp, he seemed to find it funny, squeezing his hand to make the blood pulse out quicker. I don't think there has been any lasting damage - it's not as if I've turned him into Tony Iommi - but it was sickener when it happened, especially as it's not the first time I've maimed him like this. Maybe we can have him declawed like a cat. It would be better for us all in the long run.
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