Because I Love You

I will spare you the photos I took of my toe. No matter how you like your toes and take care of them and put sparkly green polish on the nails, let's face it: toes are not so very photogenic. They are, sometimes, just ugly.

Now, I *do* love my toes--I made a conscious effort years ago to make Best Friends with My Toes because my mother hated her own feet so much, and I had these size 9 1/2 feet in the 6th grade (along with this weight and height, and probably this same level of maturity and intelligence, which is not to say that I was a precocious 6th grader but that I haven't done a whole hell of a lot in the intervening years). and so had lots of snarky comments about my feet. Not the least of which was The EGE's comment that they resembled canoes. He swears this is not actually what he said, but it's what I *remember* him saying, and isn't that all that really matters? Of course it is!

OK. I'm rambling. The point of this post is that, if you see me somewhere, like, oh, Art Unraveled in a little over a week (oboy! oboy!), please keep a safe distance from me. Apparently I am a magnet for accidents, illness, disaster. Dog bites. Because today I stubbed my toe, and I think it may be broken. It hurt enough to be broken, and I heard something pop, but that happens when you stub your toe and jam it, too, so I just yelled and said Some Very Bad Words and kind of sank to the floor and wallowed around in self pity for a while. And then I hobbled out into the yard to get some Husband Sympathy, which WAY outranks "self" and "pity." It's a testament to his good sense and kindness that he didn't make any cracks about, oh, clumsiness, or big feet, or A Walking Disaster.

So stay safely away from me. We can talk in loud-ish voices across rooms, or perhaps you can stand in one room and I can stand in another, and we will have paper cups to put up to the wall, like spies.

Yeah, I've come to a point in the Netflix queue of 2,153 movies (or whatever the limit is) where there's a string of spy movies. I'm all into Spy Mode around here.

So I'll blame the toe on the Russians, because, really, all the really great spy movies were made during the Cold War, when we had an enemy that made it worthwhile to invent cool Maxwell Smart Gadgets. Unlike now, when we just worry incessantly and don't even have Outer Space Travel to keep us entertained.

So I've got my toes taped together, and I think this calls for an extra glass of wine, don't you? Yes, that's what I thought. Join me, won't you? You can celebrate the lack of photos in this post, although I gotta tell you: the colors of my toe are quite fabulous! The purple and fuchsia go so well with the sparkly green polish that The EGE thought is was quite amazing.

[P.S. I have gritted my teeth and added another label to the collection: "whining." It was only a matter of time, wasn't it?]