Everyone is happy, except me

You see, I first got the urgent impulse to grow my nails long and slender when a certain girl I was trying to get close to in my first year said, in her stupid carefree manner, that I have short fingers. Did it matter that she was joking? No! My fingers weren't long and she called me short fingers. . And that was how she lost a good man with short fingers.

I started keeping my nails and filing them into pointy slender tips, no one would ever call me short fingers again. Not with the sharp pointy tips glaring them in the face and daring them to say even a word.

But then I am a teacher and I do not have the time or the patience to start explaining to teenagers why I have to keep my nails so long when they are made to always chop off theirs from the root. I've often thought of calling them together and offering them some sober explanation.

"You see, I am keeping these nails because my heart was broken by some sweetheart a decade ago who called me short fingers. I cannot afford to cut. You guys must bear with me and let me keep my nails so we'd all have peace in this place."

But that speech is never going to happen, the kids would hang me for it. And I love my life more than my nails. So I took a file and filed sense into the nails so that they can listen when I talk and not keep glaring at my fingers. Now, everyone is happy. Except me.