Trouble Afoot

the feetMummy and I have an ongoing difference of opinion regarding Dubsie’s feet, and whether they are to be celebrated or feared.

The thing is that Dubsie has big, fat feet. Observation of Dubsie’s ankle/arch/toe ratio indicates that either 1) this girl’s feet are still in a state of extreme baby chubbiness or 2) she has feet like mine, with the reputation that precedes them.

I have thick ankles, a low arch that causes an already wide foot to spread out even wider, and toes that are too small while also being too close together. One big toenail is only half-grown, owing to my having destroyed it by dropping a weight on it in the gym, and a pinkie nail is purple, from being stubbed against a chair leg. Then there’s the pale skin that makes the veins stand out, and the dark, irregular tufts of hair.

But, I retort. But. These are some great feet, in the way that my car (a 2005 Scion xB) is a great car. The original xB is one of the boxiest — and some would say ugliest — cars ever made. My friends regularly refer to it as The Toaster or The Hearse, and my buddy Les, who is a car buff, gets visibly angry every time he sees it. But that baby is reliable. Tons of storage space, loads of passenger room in rear, great mileage and huge windows. I can park it anywhere, and when I spin the little golf-cart-like steering wheel, it corners like a champ.

It also runs and runs and runs, which is exactly why it’s great to have these kind of feet. These feet have supported every step as I’ve climbed big peaks, surfed the chill waters of the North Pacific, played soccer and salsa danced, and (praise the gods) not a single sprained ankle.

None of which means a thing to Mummy, who has graceful ankles, dainty feet, and sensuously long toes, all wrapped in luminous soft skin. Her idea of a good foot is one that looks smashing in a strappy little sandal.

So Mummy worries that Dubsie is cultivating hobbit feet, as she calls mine, and wonder’s what she’ll think of her own feet in the flip-flop season. I look at Dubsie’s stubby little dogs and foresee a glorious life of adventure. If she’s lucky, the girl will have all the performance and also retain her mother’s good looks.


2 comments to Trouble Afoot

  • Vivienne

    I think you’re on the right track. Keep teaching that lovely girl of yours to lover her feet – they’re the only pair she’s ever going to have! They are beautiful because of what she can do with them! 🙂

  • davidferris

    Hear hear, Viv! I don’t care what they say about either of our feet.

Leave a Reply

You can use these HTML tags

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>