I tried cutting my toenails the other day. It didn't go so well. Any complicated maintenance lower than my belly button is a guessing game these days. A blindfolded covert ops mission. Or perhaps an exercise in strategic futility... and yet I try.
Anyhow, after a few ill-placed snips, my left big toenail looks like it's been through a meat grinder.
I give up. Cat bills be damned, I'm going for a pedicure.
And ladies, I shouldn't even have to describe the mess I made out of my bikini line. You can only imagine...