I’m one of those low maintenance moms.. Like I brush my hair, I slap a bit of makeup on but its rare you’ll see me preened to perfection.

I don’t get my hair cut or dyed regularly, my nails are always bitten down and never painted and I wear the same pair of dirty vans with near every outfit. Oh.. And.. Annnnnd the reason I have a full fringe is ONLY so I don’t have to have my brows done.

Pffft I’m not arsed – I think it’s genius. But it wasn’t always this way, let me take you back around 10 years ago. Picture this. it’s my dads wedding reception, I’m 17, cute tight little blue dress that I hunted shops for weeks for, I’m a size 8 (couldn’t fit my leg in that dress now) , long beautifully waved hair extensions and…… Primark stick on nails. They were then, and are now… The best pound nails I can ever imagine; I mean a pound and you get to play the match up game against all your nails, end up using two small ones on one hand and having to file down a thumb nail for your middle finger because you cant risk tearing a nail off to swap them over. The glue is rivalling ‘no more nails*’, ironic that.

Anyway, it’s all going well, I’m strutting round with my blue WKD thinking I’m the dogs bollocks, and so begins the first dance – my dad, being extra as he is decided to start with a slow dance and branch off into copacabana- my step mom whips off half her dress and with the sheer shock of it I press a little hard on my WKD and off pops my thumb middle finger nail. Shit!!! I spent what felt like the entire first dance trying to scrape the bastard off the floor, with a hand full of too big nails and a floor full of confetti and party poppers it felt like a game off the cube. But I’m prepared, because as an 18 year old you only carry chewing gum, nail glue, some cash off your dad and impulse spray. So I wanna say I had too many WKDS but… There’s more alcohol in my kids fruit shoots let’s be honest.

So lets put it down to the fact that I had two hands full of nails that resembled a pterodactyls claws. So there I am, trying to open the little mini glue, to pop a bit back on the back of my rogue nail. I can’t seem to open it with my claws so I hold the little bottle with my nails and try to open the lid with my mouth, FIRST MISTAKE. I get it open, and drop a bit onto the back of my nail, but I then need to close the glue before it goes over my little dress, and that’s when it happened, my clever 17 year old self put the nail.. The gluey thumby finger nail IN MY MOUTH to hold. And you guessed it, that mother fucker got stuck to my tongue.

Not only that, in sheer panic of what I’d done, I got the lid of the glue stuck to my finger. FUCK! I spent the rest of my evening smiling silently at everyone whilst secretly trying to pry this glue nail off my tongue with my teeth!! I ripped the glue lid off my finger and lost the top layer of skin, resulting in blood on my beautiful blue dress, and nodding and mmmmming at every relative trying to make conversation with me until EVENTUALLY I took the top layer of skin off my tongue too.

So ladies, all I’m really trying to tell you is when you see these hot 18 year olds with their nails done and their teeny bags containing a pair of false lashes and some Lippy. Smile and remember me with a nail stuck to my tongue. Being low maintenance isn’t all that bad.

**No more nails is what incapable people like me use to stick anything and everything to the wall, including mirrors in my first flat resulting in me not getting my deposit back. Don’t make that mistake folks.**

Written by Bethany Dempsey at BD Blogs.