My sister, Kate, and her boyfriend, Jake, and the gang on the four wheeler.
"Shush-up!" I answered as I tried to hide my feet and all their hyped ugliness.
"Her first four toes are all. the same. length," she started in on the details. "And then the little toe in only this big"
I've heard it all before. In fact one high school summer, Heath Blackwood took one look at my sandal exposed feet in Sunday School and exclaimed, "Dude! Do you even have a pinky toe?"
It true. My feet are u.gly!
First four toes: all the same length. Pinky toe: short, fat, barely there. Width: wide. Toenails: uneven, brittle, always breaking. Arch: shallow. Heals: calloused, cracked, dry, painful.
Summertime's the worse time for my feet. They're dry. They crack. And their ever present ugliness only becomes more glorified.
This time of year, about August, my feet start to out shine all things ugly and repulsive. Months of flip-flops and moseying outside barefoot are ever so evident. My toe paint is chipped, at best, but usually just stained with unverifiable remnants of the last real polish job. Even the tips of my toes are calloused.
It's gross.
*****
Today was the epitome of a great day.
The kids and I spent the morning rock climbing.
We didn't let the fact that we weren't wearing the proper footwear slow us down.
We lunched at the park, and then played on the toys.
We came home and Jace napped. Brynlee and I spent the afternoon, barefoot, eating popsicles and playing Go Fish underneath the crabapple tree. Go Fish was followed by a quick nap for the tuckered out four-year-old.
Spencer came home. The two of us watched the storm through the front window. We woke the kids so they wouldn't miss out on the perfect summer storm. Boots, jackets and a couple paper sailboats. Puddle jumping.
Dinnertime, followed by a couple loops around the neighborhood. Brynlee on her bike and Jace in the stroller. It smelt like rain. Backyard swinging, jumping and a few weed pulling. Pajamas, bendaroos and a movie. Bedtime.
*****
Last night I had a thought. An epiphany, if you will. An epiphany that was only confirmed by today's great day.
These feet, albeit ugly, are my feet. Feet that live. Feet that swell with each pregnancy and are dirty black at the end of a good summer day. Feet that blister when I set a weight loss goal, and are speckled with paint after home construction. Toenails that break when stubbed on playroom toys. Feet that never cease to carry me and tired children. Feet that jump on the tramp, walk around the neighborhood, help push strollers and set the rocking chair into motion for me and my babies. Feet that get warmed up on Spencer during the winter and soak in the kiddy pool during the summer. Feet that work. Feet that play. Feet that enjoy. Feet that tell a story. A story that I love.
******
Sunday starts a new month, August.
I'll just let that sink in for a minute.
Not tomorrow, but the next day! It's August, people.
Sunday, August 1st, is also going to be the start of a new little mini-series challenge on this here blogity blog. It will be in honor of it being August and, therefore, my feet registering at a ten on the uglometer.
I'm going to title the challenge tour de feet. {Feel free to refer to it as tour de ugly feet is you feel so inclined.} Throughout August I'll give you a glimpse of our life unedited via a foot picture. My u.gly feet, my hubby's feet, my children's feet, playmate's feet, your feet, Spence's bosses feet, all feet are on equal playing ground {Well, except for maybe Spence's bosses' feet. What? My feet need an income.}
In August, the feet will tell the story. And before then I'm going to try to put a fresh coat of paint on these toenails of mine.
P.S.
I love company.
If you would like to join me on the tour de feet,
consider yourself personally invited.
And also,
as always,
my blog my rules
your blog your rules.
If you decide to join me
feel free to change up the tour de feet
to fit you and your blogging style.
You don't have to post everyday if you don't want.
Or for the entire month of August.
Your blog, you make up the rules.
M'kay.
Oh, and if you're going to play along
let me know.
What good is company if you don't even know they stopped by to visit.