All my life I've been a nail biter. But for some reason I've stopped. Cold turkey. And I didn't even mean to. Maybe it's all the moving and unpacking which we are still doing. It was never a particularly good habit given that I work in a greasy dirty factory.
With new fingernails comes new knowledge. Firstly, nail clippers are harder to use properly than unicycles. Achieving the right angle and the right amount of cut is nigh on impossible the first time. Laugh if you will. You've had a lifetime of experience.
Secondly, people who file their nails have stumbled upon an ancient Chinese form of torture. Mrs A. filing her own sorry excuses for finger armour offered to do mine. The horrible rasping vibrations up my fingers made me beg for the release of sweet sweet death.
Thirdly, fingernails get stuff under them. Especially when working in the aforementioned greasy dirty factory. Leaving the zoo the other day I was stopped and charged with attempting to smuggle three carpet pythons and a herd of wildebeest all hidden under my pinky nail. I didn't even know they were there.
Lastly, they are dangerous. Poking a niece in the ribs can require stitches, and carelessly scratching in the shower....well I've never had any urge to join a choir at the high end of the vocal scale. And let's leave nose picking right out.