i have an aversion to naked feet. in high school i had a sign in my room that barred their entrance. the sound of flip-flops flip-flopping is among my most detested. there was a nail fungus commercial in college that i was never able to watch in its entirety. i wish my husband slept with socks on.
loved ones laugh at this quirk of mine explaining it off as a side-effect of having no feet of my own. it never occurred to any of us that this strong distaste of a bare foot was a form of ageism on my part.
i am currently scouring the internet for examples of shots i hope to get of the kids saturday at the photographer's. not of their faces. group shots of their feet. bare. adorned with our wedding rings. to then enlarge and hang on the wall of our bedroom. the fact that i have yet to achieve the perfect angle and focus of their toes and heels plagues me.
as i watched caleb today practicing to pick up baby links with his ever-growing 4 yr old toes, i felt a tiny nip and wondered how long he has before mom digs out an old "no bare feet allowed" sign.
i wonder if the timing will correspond with when he will no longer fling the door open on his mother while she is using the bathroom, to bathe or otherwise, inquiring such urgencies as "dad said i could have pb and j. is that ok, mom?"
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
i have nothing witty to say here, but i think it's fun when other people do.