A Totally Real Conversation With The Right Foot at 8:30 This Morning:
Right Foot: “I refuse to wear heels today. I just simply refuse! You practically killed me yesterday with those damn tan Candies!”
Me: “Calm down. It’s Saturday. We don’t need to look so formal. Although, I do have that hair appointment at the hoity-toity salon later today with those blond Barbie dolls hair stylists that like to judge anyone who walks through the door…” My eyes dart to the long line of shoes on the floor along my bedroom wall.
Right Foot: “Don’t even think about it! We were practically limping to the car outside of Costco last night! Don’t you remember the pain? See here.” She lifts up her middle toe to me. “See, I have a blister! Ouchie!” She wails and rubs her toes against the left pant leg.
Left Foot, shoving right foot off her leg: “I feel great! I don’t know what her problem is! Bring on the baddest heel you got, baby!” She flexes and wiggles her toes one at a time and then again all together.
Me, thinking for a moment: “Tell you what, we’ll wear the black Chinese wedges today so we don’t look like a total slob at the salon and then the rest of the weekend is either barefoot or soft sandals. Is it a deal?”
Right Foot mumbles something softly.
Me: "I didn’t hear that. You need to buck up and be a team player today, missy!”
Right Foot: “Yeah, fine. Whatever. Geez, you lose 70 pounds and then you think you can fit into anything- including smaller shoes! I'd rather pig out and go back to the ballet flats then teeter on these damn heels all the time! Just be sure to burn those Candies. I don’t ever want to get my toes stuck in them again!”
Me: “Whatever you say.”
Thank goodness she couldn’t see behind our back. My fingers had crossed themselves in solidarity with me. They understand the importance of a fashionable shoe. Of course, they don’t wear anything but good fitting jewelry so they really can’t sympathize.
Me: “Calm down. It’s Saturday. We don’t need to look so formal. Although, I do have that hair appointment at the hoity-toity salon later today with those blond Barbie dolls hair stylists that like to judge anyone who walks through the door…” My eyes dart to the long line of shoes on the floor along my bedroom wall.
Right Foot: “Don’t even think about it! We were practically limping to the car outside of Costco last night! Don’t you remember the pain? See here.” She lifts up her middle toe to me. “See, I have a blister! Ouchie!” She wails and rubs her toes against the left pant leg.
Left Foot, shoving right foot off her leg: “I feel great! I don’t know what her problem is! Bring on the baddest heel you got, baby!” She flexes and wiggles her toes one at a time and then again all together.
Me, thinking for a moment: “Tell you what, we’ll wear the black Chinese wedges today so we don’t look like a total slob at the salon and then the rest of the weekend is either barefoot or soft sandals. Is it a deal?”
Right Foot mumbles something softly.
Me: "I didn’t hear that. You need to buck up and be a team player today, missy!”
Right Foot: “Yeah, fine. Whatever. Geez, you lose 70 pounds and then you think you can fit into anything- including smaller shoes! I'd rather pig out and go back to the ballet flats then teeter on these damn heels all the time! Just be sure to burn those Candies. I don’t ever want to get my toes stuck in them again!”
Me: “Whatever you say.”
Thank goodness she couldn’t see behind our back. My fingers had crossed themselves in solidarity with me. They understand the importance of a fashionable shoe. Of course, they don’t wear anything but good fitting jewelry so they really can’t sympathize.
posted by punkindunkin at 1:15 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home