That piggie has been broken on multiple occassions.
Way back on a Thanksgiving, one of my nitwitted uncles, Edsel perhaps, remarked on the genetic condition that ran in the family.
The nail on the little toe was split, with a little spur on the outside that grew on it's own accord and frequently got caught in sock material.
Fast forward to yesterday when I'm relating that tale to Da Man in the course of Friday afternoon conversation.
He carries the same condition, though a Venezulean chiropodist took care of it during an excessively painful pedi, which would have led me into an international incident.
In my long 56 years, no other person has mentioned this thing with the toenail, and I always thought it was just us.
Are we related, or is my claim to familial uniqueness invalidated?
Here's the piggie, sans spur, which met a clipper the other evening.
-- Posted from a mobile device