I read the other day that Baylor University's Brittney Griner stands 6 foot 9 inches tall, wears a men's size 17 shoe and has a wing span of 86 inches.  There are ways to hide a wing span; never raise your arms, keep your arms bent resting on your lap at all times, and never wear sleeveless shirts.  6 foot 9 inches on a woman is just tall.  Even that height on a man is probably stare worthy if sighted.  But, I would dare say that a men's size 17 shoe on a woman is something most definitely worthy of snapping an Instagram picture to post to Twitter or Facebook with some sort of sarcastic comment to accompany it. 

Feet are interesting.  Some people have beautiful feet.  Even without a pedicure they have perfectly balanced toes and beautifully soft skin and heels.  I hate those people.  Ok, all of them, except my sister Diane whom I love in spite of her beautiful, almost model like feet.  Other people, including myself, have feet that look like they roamed Israel around 62 A.D. wearing only sandals as their only shoe and mode of transportation.  There is a third category that I will only elude to and not dive into.  Suffice to say it includes those who have succumbed to; bunions, yeast infections of the nails, strange variations in toe lengths that are freakish, and toes that have a higher arch than the arch of their foot. 

I have always hated my feet.  Some people look great in sandals of all heel heights.  I do not.  Though, I live in my flip-flops most of the summer when not at work.  Flip flops work for me as I am sporty and sporty can allow yucky feet as part of its style and make it look ok.  Genetically I was given the predisposition for cracking heels.  My mom has bad crackie dry skin on her heels, I do, and so does my daughter.  I do not like nail polish as it just draws attention to the foot.  And why would I want that when I hate my feet. 

Though I do not love my feet, I do like the fact that I was born with feet that were perfectly designed to wear flip flops.  The space between my big toe and pointer toe was made with a small gap.  The thong part of a flip flop never rubs my toes raw.  My husband's toes are too close together and he can't wear flip flops comfortably.  Speaking of which, he says I have the cutest feet.  Personally I think he is a bit off on that call. Way off! 
My feet are well-worn.  Presently, which is the norm for me, I have a blister on my foot from running.  This week it is on the tip of my right big toe, the result of trimming my toenail shorter than what I need to run.  Usually on the inside ball of my right foot is a callous which is created from running.  My pointer toenail is recovering from me opening the basement door on top of it causing it to bruise badly.  And, currently you will spot a small cut on my pinkie toe from when I dropped a can of dusting spray onto it right before I climbed on my bike to ride to the chiropractor.  My feet are average sized 7 1/2, a bit bony, narrow from mid point to my heel, and are a host to prominent veins.  It is an image that you will now not be able to get out of your head. 
I've only ever had one pedicure in my whole life.  That's the only time they actually looked taken care of.  My brother-in-law has, a time or two at holiday functions, filed me and my two sister's and mom's heels and  then massaged our feet with foot cream.  His does that for my sister Diane, his wife, regularly.   That same sister once bought me for my birthday a heated wax vat to soak my feet in to keep them soft.  I loved using it twice I think, but never seem to remember to take the time to use it.  I am finally married to someone who notices feet, comments on my mine, and lovingly files my heels and massages my feet.  He says, "Let me take care of your feet."  Now I'm not sure if that's because he totally loves doing it, or if he knows I run full boar through life and my feet take me there.

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