Way, way, back--back when my eldest sister was married with 2 small tots, I slammed a car door on my right thumb. I have a vague recollection of Mom not having time to deal with my situation and dropping me off at the house of my aforementioned sister.
(To be honest, I could be intertwining two memories. I'd forgotten about burning my upper arm on their wood stove's interior chimney pipe, but I'm carrying on to where my memory leads me.)
Sister iced that thumb of mine, as I sobbed myself to sleep on her couch. My present day self would've used that bumpy thumbnail as often as possible for 'show and tell' opportunities, but young me did not want to be different or odd.
When I worked with the wee folk, they would often discover my bumpy thumb and want all the details. And then they'd share their own painful stories. A handy tool, when you're hoping to distract them from the situation they're struggling with.
I've had strangers tell me what I needed to fix that thumb. One energetic mall worker, asked if she might smooth it for me, but that definitely wasn't the right idea. The smoothing had thinned it to such a degree, that I had to find a temporary way of keeping it from further damage and to keep the bumpy bits from snagging on everything.
Using superglue, nail stickers and Barielle ridge filler, I've been able to grow out the top layer of the nail. My fantasy, was that growing it out would help the layers become one. Either it will never happen, without removing the nail, or it's going to take another year of growth. Whatever the deal is, I now have a new annoyance--debris has gotten between the layers of keratin, making my nail appear bruised.
I could add color to my nails--though I hate the fussiness of worrying about the condition of polish. Or I could laugh at myself. That's my usual MO.
To sum up: small problems keep me entertained for hours. And who doesn't enjoy personal entertainment?