“There is dirt under your fingernails,” someone recently whispered to me. I nearly shouted back, “Thanks for letting me know!” I said as I turned over my hands, folded my fingers inward, and looked at my fingertips. I grabbed the napkin in front of me, dug in, removed the dirt, and smiled.

They asked, “Why are you smiling?”

I said, “Well, I used to ‘do my nails’ religiously. I did colored gel, and all that time, I couldn’t see the dirt underneath my nails. And no one else could either.

For years now, since I no longer polish my nails, I see the dirt all the time and so do other people.”

“And that makes you smile?” they replied.

“Yep. I prefer we all see the dirt.” I smiled again.

“You are weird, Yaira.”

Then I laughed.