Feet in the morning
Feet at night...Dr. Suess
Adam loved The Foot Book. So did I. It didn't have millions of words and I was happy to read it 800 times if he so wished. He pushed his feet in my face during the reading until we both dissolved in giggles.
I always loved baby feet. They're so fat and sweet and perfect. Jakob had the best baby feet; they were so sweetly kissable and kissing them made him giggle. A giggly Jakob made everyone else giggle too.
Somehow I aquired a bit of a foot thing. I like nice feet, soles especially. Icky feet bother me so much I once took a photo of gross feet in the checkout line of the supermarket because I was so disgusted. Honestly. People are purchasing food.
Every morning - all four seaons, mind you - I spend time with my feet, my pumice stone, and good quality lotion.
I don't understand people who ignore their feet. Often they're very diligent about all other matters of personal hygiene - washing, shampooing, combing, curling, cosmeticing und so wieder. It wouldn't be so bad, really, if they just wore shoes.
I wonder if my problem is a little bigger than sole neglect. Maybe the inability to pay attention to frequently invisible feet makes me think about people who spend a lot of time doing right things - befriending, parenting, theologizing - because they should. Seems to me those things are authentic when they're part of developing a wise and beautiful soul. 'Course, it would be judgmental of me to suggest someone is engaged in soul neglect.
Final foot thought?
Hmm.
Pumice stones are cheap.
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