I like my feet.
I've always liked my feet. Yeah they're flat... so flat they suction to the floor when when I stand barefooted... but I think that's kinda cool. I also like the freckle on the top of my left foot. It's just above my first two toes, centered. I've always liked it. It shows nicely at the tops of some of my dress shoes.
I have an olive complexion so my feet are that color too... and I guess that contributes to why I like my feet. But I think that's a pretty secondary (or terciary) reason. My first two toes are squared off, too. In this, I'm lucky. My brother's second toe is larger than his first. He says its a Roman Toe, indicative of a natural-born ruler. Yeah, whatever. I guess I'd say that too if my feet were freakish.
I have relatively small feet. I think that's an attractive quality in females -- at least the chinese seemed to think so. Did you know they used to (may still) bind their little girls' feet at young ages to keep them from growing! I didn't know that was possible. I always joked with my daughter that I'd put a rock on her head to keep her from growing... maybe it would work. The women there could have as small as six-in. feet. I'm not sure what the usefulness is and I'm pretty sure the weight of the human body over time would become unbearable. I wear a size seven. That's more of a moderate size, I suppose.
I like painting my toenails. Primarily, I like painting them bright colors. (Pun intended?) I think its funny that I dislike painting my nails, but my toe nails are almost always painted. And I like them to be neat-o. Flowers and stuff. I like my feet, you know.
I've always wanted to get the mehndi henna art done on them. They say it lasts longer where your body heat is warmer... so when women get married in those mehndi-art countries, they get it done on their palms and soles of their feet. I wonder if I could keep it from tickling long enough to get it done. I'd like to. Or die laughing trying.
I like comfortable shoes. I go out of my way to avoid too-high heels, except when I want a certain look that won't avoid the heels. It's rare. I like to dress up like that occasionally, but give me my docs anyday. Or my adidases. Those are some fine athletic shoes. They're feet-happy.
On a recent skiing trip with my sunday school class, I was struck by a passage in the Bible. Jesus washed the feet of the disciples and told them to do the same for each other. It was about servanthood. Well, back then, feet were really nasty. Just think about a hot climate, dry, and walking in the sand/dirt everywhere you went, with sandals, no socks, on. Probably not regular bathers either. Wash those feet, baby! And then I was thinking of how the guys in the group were so selfless on the trip. They never once had complained about hoisting our luggage up hither, down thither, around yonder and so forth. They drove most of the very long way (I was one of the only female drivers) and they didn't complain. They never once complained about carrying anyone hurt down the mountain or anything else. What servants! So as they returned fresh from skiing for hours, I grabbed me a bowl of hot water and some body oil. I was surprised! I thought there'd be more protesting than what I got. Some would say, "are you sure?" I'd hear about all kinds of foot-insecurities. It really didn't matter. It was awesome. It was a great chance to talk about the scripture and to thank them for servanthood. And everyone was so tired!
And that's how I found my sole mate, my foot twin.
And now you know the rest of the story...