things I dislike: feet

Obviously, this is merely the first installment in what promises to be a very lengthy series. The list of things I dislike is gargantuan, so there’s a pretty deep well for writing material here. For now, let’s just focus on one offender at a time.

Today we’re going to talk about feet. I dislike them very much.

I do not like them when they stink. I do not like them when they’re pink. I do not like them on a man. I do not like them in a van. I do not like feet when they’re dry. I do not like feet in my eye. I do not like them, warm or cold. I do not like feet, young or old. I do not want them touching me. I do not like feet, can’t you see?

Now before you get all whiny on me about the picture, just know that there were a gazillion pictures of feet that were even WAY MORE disgusting than this one that I could have chosen to display, but I spared you. You’re welcome.

The worst feet of all? Man-feet. G-R-O-S-S. In a Law School Ninja Administration, the people of Amurrika will not be subjected to the visual assault perpetrated by man-feet. My second act as Ruler of the Free World will be to make it illegal for men to wear sandals or flip-flops or any other shoes that leave the feet exposed. My first act? Of course, my first act as Ruler of the Free World will be to ban unreported cases and make all cases reported. But that’s for another post.

So remember I told y’all that Ninja Kid is in a competitive dance company? Well, the dance competition and convention is coming up next week, so we’re headed off to the awful hellhole known as Myrtle Beach, where I’ll be forced against my will to sit on the beach and drink pina coladas for about a week. Remember also that I told you guys my life is hard. Never ever forget that.

Ninja PawPaw goes with us on these dance competition trips every year. This year is Ninja Kid’s third year in the company and Ninja PawPaw has gone on every adventure thus far. Ninja PawPaw’s life is also hard, although not quite as hard as mine, because of all the people in my whole family, nobody’s life is as hard as mine. But Ninja PawPaw has to sit with me on the beach for a week and watch me drink pina coladas, so he gets an honorable mention.

The other day, I was talking to Ninja PawPaw on the phone about our upcoming trip, and I reminded him that when we go through airport security we’ll have to take off our shoes so that the wonderfully competent Transportation Security Administration can check our shoes for explosives. Therefore, I advised Ninja PawPaw not to wear his sneakers on the days we’ll be traveling.

What follows can only be described as my worst nightmare.

Ninja PawPaw replied, “Oh, I thought I’d just wear flip-flops the whole week, actually.”

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And with that, panic ensued. Ninja PawPaw exposing his man-feet for the whole week?? This will never do. NEVER. There isn’t enough alcohol/Ambien/horse tranquilizer in the world to allow me to tolerate man-feet for a whole week. A whole week? Oh-ho-ho no. No. No way. Not on my watch.

Ninja PawPaw’s feet are particularly offensive. You see, there’s a hierarchy to this. Generally, I dislike feet. Specifically, I really dislike man-feet. And in particular, I intensely dislike Ninja PawPaw’s man-feet. Ninja PawPaw’s man-feet are the oddest feet I’ve ever seen. He has canyons in them, y’all. Like the Grand Canyon of Man-Feet is found on Ninja PawPaw’s right heel. I have never seen foot crevasses like these before. It’s just plain creepy. I imagine little creatures are offering little mini-helicopter rides through there, just like the ones you can take from Vegas through the real Grand Canyon. Sorry, Ninja PawPaw.

(It occurs to me now that it’s probably a good thing I’m single. The constant presence of man-feet in my house might be enough to drive me the rest of the way insane. Shut up. I’m not all the way insane yet.)

(Also: I almost tagged this post with “why I’m single.” Then it occurred to me that I could probably use that tag on pretty much every post here, effectively rendering it meaningless. Sigh.)

Anyway.

So, being the brilliant, resourceful, self-absorbed, and thoughtful daughter that I am, I decided to buy Ninja PawPaw a pair of Sanuks. They’re comfy and kindof ugly-cute and even kindof beachy, and they just slip right on and off like nobody’s business. It’s his (belated) Father’s Day present. Yes, you read that correctly. For Father’s Day, I bought Ninja PawPaw something that’s all about me. Shut up.

Ninja PawPaw will like these shoes; nay, he will love them. Ninja PawPaw will wear these shoes in the airport and he will only take them off when it’s mandated by the wonderfully competent Transportation Security Administration, during which time I shall divert my gaze, and then he’ll dutifully put his shoes right back on so as not to expose the world (mainly me) to his man-feet.

He will. I just know it. But just in case, I’m gonna bring along my flask.