Feet are the Window Into the Soul

I feel pity for feet: they just don’t get much respect. However, this past week the asleep hubs showed great interest in my feet. This got me thinking about feet, and their noble covering, the shoe. You can tell a lot about a person by looking at what covers their feet. Feet are the window into the soul… or something like that. Without further ado, I am happy to throw open this window and to present “My Week in Footwear.”

Monday

Monday – April showers bring May flowers. However, March showers bring unrealistic hope that winter is actually over up here in the north.

Tuesday

Tuesday – Breaking in my new hiking boots for an upcoming trip. They felt great! However, I suspect that the trip will be more rigorous than walking to the mailbox and back and I should continue to break them in.

Wednesday

Wednesday – Taking the dog for a run on the rail trail. She does not technically “run.” I run and she frantically tries to speed-pee on every light pole we pass.

Thursday

Thursday – Headed to work. Daily I wear cute shoes to work, and daily it is a stupid decision. Rarely are cute shoes comfortable, and teaching is hard on the feet. Someday I will actually wear practical shoes instead of being seduced by peep toe flats and ruffled slingbacks. That day is not today.

Friday

Friday – At the grocery store. All of the workers are so friendly to me. I tell myself it is because I smile at them and am kind to them. However, they are probably nice to me because they think I’m slightly emotionally unstable: when we first moved here I started crying in front of the pancake syrups because I could not find a grocery store in the state that carried the type of syrup I was used to buying. I wasn’t really crying over the syrup; I never seem to cry about what is ACTUALLY the issue, it is something stupid that opens the floodgates. But of course, the poor stock boy who was trying to assist me had no way to know this, and he thought I really was distraught over a waffle topping.

Saturday

Saturday – Making pumpkin spice muffins. This is my foot’s preferred state: free to wiggle.

Sunday

Sunday – Off to church in my heels. The higher the heel, the closer to God.

The lowly foot was brought to the forefront of my mind this week because of something the hubs did in his sleep early in the week. The hubs was fast asleep, but I was still up, staring at the ceiling regretting having caffeine so close to bedtime. Suddenly, the hubs grabbed my foot! I thrashed around, quite startled, but he kept a tight grip on my foot. I calmed down and started talking to him; he remained strongly attached to my poor foot.

Me: What are you doing?

Hubs: Nothing, just checking stuff out.

Me: What are you checking?

Hubs: I’m checking on the product.

Me: Oh… and it seems to be ok?

Hubs: Yep, seems to be ok.

Me: Ok. Anything else you need?

Hubs: Nope, think it’s all pretty good.

Then the hubs let go of my foot and rolled back over.

Even in his sleep the hubs is kind enough to check on my feet. I don’t know if there is a husband of the year contest, but he would be a shoe-in.

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