A friend mentioned, on Facebook, that she has always longed for a boy. God only blessed her with girls. I replied, in jest, that we should make a temporary trade (noting, alas, that her girls were already far too old for me to french braid their hair or dress them in beautiful dresses). Of course, although a day or two away from my boys might be a blessing, I would never trade them for any other child (as I said in the last post).
This morning I was, once again, lamenting my feet (for a visual, see my last lament). The bottoms of my feet are normally very dry, but in the winter, they get dry to the point of ripping holes in the bottoms of all my socks. Ugh! Plus, I have a new wart growing in on the bottom. I'm not at the point where I'm willing to contemplate getting a shot of Novocaine to allow a dermatologist to cut it out, but I'm at the point where it definitely bothers me. I thought, "Boy, I'd love to trade feet with someone else (preferably, another woman, obviously)."
Who, in the world, would be willing to trade for MY feet? Their feet would have to be pretty objectionable, themselves. Perhaps their feet are gargantuan (apparently Paris Hilton falls into this category) and they would love my petite size 6-1/2. Maybe their toes are so long that they look like fingers.
Then again, there's the Filipino girl whose feet were so clubbed that they were upside down and turned backwards. She certainly would have welcomed my feet with open arms! Ha! I doubt she would have cared that the two large toenails were missing. Even the inconvenience of the wart wouldn't bother her. She would jump up and down on my feet and do a host of things I take for granted.
So, just so you know, my feet are not up for trade. I'm keeping my feet and my kids (even the one who sprayed urine all over the toilet and wall shortly after I finished cleaning their bathroom today!) and a host of other things and situations in my life, which at times seem less than perfect. After all, everything has some redeeming qualities, right?
3 comments:
OOOOOH. I've had the plantar wart removal treatment before and it was honestly THE most painful experience of my life. I don't know how heroin addicts manage to shoot up between their toes! ;) Maybe one of those sock-ripping dry pieces might just slice it off for you!?!
Dare I confess that of all my body parts, I'm fondest of me feet? Is that weird? I like that they're bendy and have high arches. So I probably wouldn't change my feet for yours. Although, that 6 1/2 is tempting!!!
I know how you feel as well. I always wanted a little girl but God had different plans for me. He gave me three boys as well. Your right, I couldn't imagine my life any other way.
Amy - thanks for sharing my pain on the plantar's wart removal. I think the office staff talked about me the rest of the day because my reaction to the shot was less than dignified and controlled. I never knew heroin users shoot up between their toes! Still processing that new info.
I'm glad you love your feet. I'm just thankful that, if I have to have a body part with issues, at least I can keep it covered with socks and shoes in public.
Kaci - The funny thing, is that I always wanted boys primarily, until I was pregnant with #2. Then, somehow, I began to think I would really enjoy having a girl. By #3, it was an obsessive thought. Now, I've gone back to thinking that boys really roll well and keep things hoppin!
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