One of the oddest anomalies of my physical make-up is that God did not give me feet of equal proportions to my body.
It wasn’t such a bad deal when I had a little skinny bod – my feet never felt overworked or overloaded. Now…..not so much. Because while my body took a turn for the worse, my feet remain little, short, cute blocks of SOLID PAIN AND AGONY!!!
I’m pretty sure if they could speak - they would be shouting “Hey fat girl – lose a few why dontcha!?” Their inability to speak means they have to resort to burning and throbbing. They are the focus of my every waking moment and the reason I am in need of narcotics to sleep.
I’m glad there are only 2 of them. If I were a yardstick I would be 3 feet full of pain. Calgon…….take me away…..my feet that is.
1 comment:
Ha,ha,ha, poor little tootsies!! My feet speak the same language yours do. Deborrah's speak the same language, can't it mean something?? Lose what?? Hmm, maybe, after I finish this bowl of cherry ice cream!!
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