Why, oh why, hast thou betrayed me?
You were like a part of me (..oh wait….you ARE a part of me. Doh!)
…but there’s something is strangely amiss.
I know I should not have ignored you those long winter months when you were jammed into socks, more socks, and big stinky snow boots. But you were well hidden and protected so as long as you kept me upright, I pretty much took you for granted. Now, as summer finally has made it to my fair state, I’m noticing something very, very disturbing…. ..
…you look like hell.
Now don’t get me wrong, I appreciate your ability to navigate my fat tail from place to place, push the gas pedal at the proper intervals, and you even enable me to occasionally look stylish in shoes…
… BUT that was then. This is now.
Something drastic happened somewhere around the seventh month of my last pregnancy. I have vague memories of your normal appearance. Well as normal as snowshoe-shaped-planks can look.
But now..well..you look like something that should be on the end of Bilbo Baggin’s legs. YES…a Hobbit foot.
Shrek has better looking tootsies than you.
So I desperately try to repair the damaged done. But the cracks in my heels the size of the Grand Canyon are defying any conventional creams or ointments. And Gawd help me, what’s up with the hairy toes?
That’s one place I never thought I’d have to shave.
So I struggle, buff, scrub, lotion, and cajole my sad feets. I even attempted to “pretty you up” with hot pink polish. But the day I was dabbing Flaming Hot Pink Cotton Candy Surprise on my troll-esque nails, my Other Half happened to stroll by.
Eyes narrowed, a smirk on his lips, he eyed my blazing pink nail-job. “Toenail polish? He commented. ” Isn’t that a bit like putting lipstick on a pig?”
This comes from the mouth of man who could swing from trees and dig for grubs with HIS toes.
People in glass houses should not throw Pedi-Eggs.