What’s your grooming preference? A comb or a razor?
The poem wasn’t nearly as funny once I found out it was true.
With a magnifying glass in hand, I turned on the light over my bathroom sink. I sat on the lid of the commode to check. That’s when I saw them – hairs long enough to curl, maybe even long enough to braid.
Shaving the backs of my heels, my ankles, and the tops of my feet was a habit.
But my big toes?
The Emmaus weekend overflowed with women’s laughter and tears. We ate homemade meals and read letters from people who love us. We listened to inspirational messages. Ladies who attended previous weekends made us gifts.
The poem was one of them. It was printed on the smallest piece of paper, rolled like a scroll, and stuffed into the straps of a tiny flip flop. The verse was about girlfriends, adoration, and honesty, like telling each other our big toe hairs needed a trim.
I didn’t give my toes much thought during the weekend. There was no time to shave anyway. When they did cross my mind, I convinced myself there’s no way I overlooked hairs growing practically under my nose, especially since I wear flip flops eight months out of the year.
Back home, I mentioned the poem to my preteen daughter.
“Oh yeah,” she said.
“Oh yeah what?”
“You’ve got them.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you knew.”
I’ve been free of big toe hairs for more than 16 years, but the poem haunts me. It makes me wonder what other unappealing traits I’ve overlooked, all the while, family and friends are saying, “Oh yeah. I thought you knew.”
Did you check your toes? Tell the truth. What about unappealing traits? Check those also?
WRite wHere I’m supposed to be – Dear God, I don’t want to trip over “toe hairs” before I notice them. Increase my self-awareness.
Enjoying your blog Kim!!!! Keep it up 🙂
Thanks, Beth! This is fun. My posts are always published – NO rejections. : ) I loved your cell phone one. And to think we used to leave home for hours and not be able to call anyone. Peace and quiet…