I bought some thongs a few days ago. (I refer to the kind you put on your feet.) This was a major purchase for me. Not because they were expensive. Heck, no. Most of my footwear is purchased off the sales wrack -- the one with the sign proclaiming: "75 percent off our already ridiculously reduced sticker price, plus a bag of chips and any loose change the sales representative has in her pockets."
No, this was a major purchase because, being thong-type footwear, they expose my toes. All of them. All 900 inches of them. It's a big step for me. Nearly any sandal I've ever purchased has a fairly wide strap across the end. I've done this to prevent people from gawking or getting distracted and walking into walls.
My husband -- then my affianced -- once asked if I would accompany him to his anthropology class so he could present my toes as evidence of The Missing Link.
He still limps.
I can pinch with my toes (though I don't -- well, only my husband occasionally because he's still being punished). I can grab things with them (incredibly handy feat). I can find purchase with them while forging a swift, rocky bottomed river bed. I can lean forward until my head is nearly parallel with the floor without falling (now I kid). Oh, yes, these toes, they have their uses.
But for years I was just plain embarrassed by them. Who has toes this long?! And believe me, I've searched. Many is the time I've heard someone mention their long toes and assured them, "Ohhhh, you haven't seen long toes."
They always eye me dubiously because -- not being familiar with my mutant super powers -- they think I'm jesting. But I've never lost a toe challenge. I warn them: Really. I've Never. Been. Beaten.
Inevitably we circle around one another a few times, move into close proximity, kick off our shoes and -- WHA-BAM!
Ahhh, Grasshopper, when you too can snatch these pebbles from my hand without moving your arms ...
They back away in fear and awe.
So, I was saying. I bought some thongs the other day. This was preceded a few weeks earlier by an emergency shopping incident in which I had failed to bring a change of comfortable shoes following an out-of-town event. In an effort to spend as little as possible, I bought a pair of cushion-bottomed flip-flops.
(Queue harp music.)
Oh. Oh, my! These are (as my daughter recently said) like beds on my feet.
I wanted to wear them all the time. I wanted to sleep in them. The wiggle room! The fresh air! The cultural relevance!
So Thursday when I was perusing the Please-Just-Take-Them wrack and spied an ever-so-cute, semi-dressy pair of thongs ... well, I threw caution to the wind -- for the low, low price of $8.
Look out world. The Missing Link is moving among you.
-30-
11 comments:
You really should warn people before you write something that funny!
You put several of my thoughts into words. I have the opposite issue. My toes are are same length as my 3 year olds.
That's hysterical. And yes. The comfort of a flip-floppy-type shoe? Unsurpassed. I wear them all. the. time. To church, even.
But consider yourself warned: now that you've crossed over, you'll never go back. And of course you realize that you are now obligated to post a picture of your toes on the interweb. Just a little one, maybe?
Actually, BooMama, I tried posting a picture. As has become the norm for reasons unknown, I CAN'T. I upload, I hit "Done" ... Nuthin'. Very frustrating. I tried posting Connor's photo with a recent post and couldn't do that either. This ever happen to anyone else?
Too funny. I'm just the opposite. If my toes were normal length, my feet would be 2 sizes bigger.
OK. I FINALLY was able to upload a picture. (Not that my feet are worth NEAR the effort.) While I was at it, I added a picture of my Connor Bug to the "Disastrous Poopy" post, if anyone wants to scroll down and check out the little man.
Yes. My beloved wife's toes are almost as long as her memory. funny girl.
This cracked me up! And who the heck has good looking feet, honestly! Looks to me like youre tall, or at least long and lean, so maybe the feet match the rest of you? I wear size 11 shoes, am 5'10 and had the longest feet when I was a young teenager. Hated them, of course and I remember my sweet dad telling me, if they were any shorter I'd fall on my face. If you go back to my post on Happy Feet you'll see mine and they are about there with yours; worse, my sister looked at all three pairs and said she knew which ones were mine, and she was right....so paint 'em and bare 'em. Life's short.
YAY! A picture! And I'm with Bev: paint 'em and bare 'em. If it's any comfort at all, if I were to see these feet in public, I wouldn't point or anything. :-) Looks like some perfectly normal toes to me. :-)
I try to remember to CHOOSE the right battles with my kids...so when Savanna wants to sleep in her 'flippy-flops' that used to be blue but now are black I don't choose that one...unless she tries to sleep in them in MY bed.
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Toni,
I saw a documentary where a woman lost a finger and they used her toes as a replacements.
I hope this never happens to you, but you would be well served if it ever did.
--just trying to give you a measure of comfort :)
Cute shoes, esp for $8. Unfortunately, my big toe (or toe thumb as my Dh affectionately calls it) won't fit through shoes where there is a solitary hole for my first digit. Regular ole' flip flops are all I can wear when it comes to thongs.
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