One of my less enduring habits is picking at my cuticles…especially when I’m stressed.  Right now, they’re a little on the ragged side, not as raw as they have been at times, but they would definitely put a manicurist into a tizzy.

This morning, David was cuddled up next to me watching Animal Atlas, while I skimmed the news headlines on my computer.  I began to distractedly pick at my thumb.

“Stop it Mommy, stop it!  You’re going to make it worse.  Now put this finger right here,” he said and spread my fingers apart so I could no longer pick at the offending cuticle.

He’s right, of course, but it was just a little odd to have my 5 year old policing my bad habits.