I started picking at my watch. I had a watch with Navajo bear claws on each side of the wrist band. "Wrist tips" they might be called or something like that.
I was picking at the black patina (or whatever) in the claw. This is supposed to be there. I shouldn't have been picking at it but I was bored. My mother sees me doing this. Later in the day, I see my mother polishing silver. Why was she polishing silver on holiday? I don't know.
Next day, I see my watch. All of this black patina is gone. The watch looks quite shiny. I almost shit myself.
I ask my mother why she polished my watch. "I didn't polish your watch."
She obviously polished the watch. She saw me picking at it and she was polishing silverware the previous day. But she just refused to admit it.
I never wore that watch again. It was my father's watch. The thing was fucking ruined. To this day, she's never admitted to polishing it. Total psychopath.
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