Work Text:
When I was little, we decorated our house for Christmas. We had a little tree with ornaments, and a nutcracker.
The nutcracker’s body and clothes were all wood, but he had a real beard. He had a lever on his back that made his painted teeth go chomp, chomp.
I liked the nutcracker. Woolly liked the nutcracker too.
We played the Nutcracker Ballet. I danced like I’d learned from Ms. Lottie, and swung the nutcracker around. Floot wasn’t around to play the sugar plum fairy, so Woolly played her instead. I made him dance on his eight tippy toes.
I fed the nutcracker lots of snacks. I put nuts in his mouth. When I pushed the lever… crack! Crunch! The nutcracker broke the shells apart with his wooden teeth.
The nuts inside were sooo good!
I fed the nutcracker other things, too. He squashed raisins. He popped grapes. Juice got in his beard.
The nutcracker even bit my finger!
The nutcracker nibbled all my fingers, and some of Woolly’s mitten-shape feet. “No,” I said, and put him for a break in my little house.
“Tig, it’s bath time!” Daddy said.
“Okay!” I said. I liked bathtime. When my hair was washed, I closed my eyes so no shampoo would get in, and counted just like in hide and seek. Woolly had shown me how.
After bathtime, Daddy said it was time to cut my nails.
The clippers squeezed, then gave a loud snap. They chomped my nail right off.
When Daddy clipped my second nail, I almost scratched him. It hurt so much!
I hated having my nails cut.
I pulled my hand away.
“Tig,” said Daddy, “We need to cut your nails.”
I squeezed my hands under my arms. “No!” I said.
Daddy sighed and went to get something. Woolly came to life.
“Hey, Tig. Getting your nails cut can feel strange, but everyone needs them cut.”
“You don’t have nails,” I said. Woolly was lucky he didn’t need his nails cut. This wasn’t like getting my hair cut. This hurt, almost more than shampoo in my eyes.
“No, but if I did, I’d get them cut.”
“Tigers don’t get them cut.” I said, even though Woolly was my toy spider. I had a tiger hat that I’d once lost and found. I could put it on and be a tiger. I smiled. I’d never need my nails cut.
“If you don’t cut your nails, it will start to hurt.” Woolly told me. “They’ll dig into your hands, and you’ll scratch yourself.”
“Cutting them hurts.” I kept my hands tucked under my arms.
Woolly nodded and said, “It can feel like biting, but some people bite their nails.”
I never bit my nails.
“It’s just like your nutcracker!” Woolly stood up tall like the nutcracker, and chomped his mouth. “You like feeding the nutcracker! You even fed him your fingers!” Woolly pretended to bite his mitten feet and laughed. “Now feed the nail clippers. They’re hungry, and they’d love to have your nails to eat.”
I started to smile.
“Go for it, Tig! Feed the nail clippers like you feed your nutcracker!”
Yes, I thought! I don’t want the nail clippers to be hungry and sad.
Daddy came back with the nail clippers. He’d stuck on little eyes, and a little beard. They looked just like a little nutcracker!
I let the nutcracker clippers eat my fingernails. It even gobbled up my toenails. Chomp, chomp, chomp.
When the nutcracker clippers saw Woolly, they opened wide in shock.
“It’s only my toy spider!” I said.
I like my nutcracker. I like my nutcracker nail clippers. I love Woolly.