In the Spring of 2007, I was dating a true lad.  He loved lager, played guitar in a band, and had dirty finger nails.  They were always too short, chewed on, with cracked cuticles – just generally bad boy fingernails.

Our lazy Sunday routine usually involved couch time and watching Planet Earth, before a traditional Sunday Roast dinner at his parent’s house.  During the couch sessions, I would bring out my manicure kit and do my nails for the week ahead.  On this particular Sunday, I said, “Hey, why don’t you let me give you a manicure too?”  With a knee jerk, he said, “What?  NO!”  After a little convincing and a little cajoling, he agreed.

With OCD bubbling under my surface, I knew this was going to be as satisfying as pulling the dried paste off an Elmer’s glue bottle.  So, I started.  First with a hand scrub, hot towel, and soaking.  Then, some filing, nail oil, and a cuticle trim.  We moved on to buffing, and smoothing, and shining his nails.  They  started to look really decent.

We should haven been done, but I couldn’t help myself.  I thought, You know what?  His nails would look even better with a base coat.  And, that’s when I painted his nails.  Just one coat.  Just with clear polish.  He protested a little saying that they looked too shiny.  I explained that they were just wet and it was like a nail conditioner that would dry.  Also, they looked really pretty.

The next day he came home from work, when I was in the kitchen making dinner.  He called out, “One of the girls at the office asked me if I were wearing nail varnish.”  My heart skipped a beat.  “What did you say?”  I called back.  “I told her it was nail conditioner,” he said.

Because ignorance is bliss.  And Bliss is my new favorite Essie color.