Feet - glorious, beautiful, wonderful feet!
How can you not love that? My fellow blogger Tony aka I Sweat Butter hates feet. He even blogged about his disgust here: http://isweatbutter.blogspot.com/2008/05/tis-season-to-wear-dem-flip-flops.html (someone really needs to tell me how to fix those links so they look nice and neat so it will say "see HERE" instead of putting the whole stinking link there).
I am a foot lover. My first job was in a shoe store. Now, of course, I am a massage therapist, my job being to rub tired feet (well, that isn't my only job, but a good part of it). And being a mother, I constantly have feet in my face, day in and day out, whether washing them, cutting the nails, smelling them or biting...
Now, this is not some crazy, sick fetish...I just love feet. I do have some criteria, however. They must be clean, they must smell nice (well, as nice as a foot can smell), the nails must be trimmed (and clean, of course) - not like these:
I love flip fops and sandals and, if it were possible in NH, would wear them year round. My little man loves them enough to create his very own flip flop/ski invention:
I grew up in a strange family. Well, we were normal by most standards but we did strange things. We lip-synced to "I'm Too Sexy" for a family friend's 16th birthday, we went caroling at Christmas time (from the car, screaming to our victim's home), we mooned New York City from our hotel room on our first family trip (well, I did...it was my father's idea, I'm just not sure anyone else joined me at the window - I am sure the natives were complaining about "those damned tourists - never passing up the opportunity to do something considered somewhat immoral with my parent's permission...that's for another blog) and we had a foot contest.
This contest was complete with pictures of each family member's foot and judge's forms. The judges rated the pictures and placed them in the most appropriate categories including Most Beautiful, Most Feminine and Most Masculine.
My mother insisted handing out the pictures to family friends - including my high school guidance counselor (how mortifying).
In the end, I was voted most beautiful, my mother most feminine and my sister, Monica, most masculine. Poor Monica. No wonder she hates to have her feet rubbed. I, on the other hand, love a good foot massage.
I am sure that my mother has those pictures somewhere. I will have to work on finding them...