A Toe Tale

24 Feb

FYI: Denny is crazy, but in a fun, loveable way.

(However, this isn’t the best way to beg for love.)

I have naked toes.  (Which is a cardinal sin in my family.)

Always brush your teeth twice a day, remember to take your vitamins and never go out in public with naked toes.  (Oh, and if you ever feel ill, take some sinus medicine.  It is a cure-all.)

My toes have been polish free for about six months now.  A) It’s winter.  Why paint your toes if no one will see them?  B) My toes are weird.  No, they’re not misshapen and hairy.  They just refuse to hold polish.  Renegades.  Hippies, even.

No matter what I do, my toes will find a way to shed their coats of polish within 48 hours.  I’m not hard on my toes.  I don’t go about knocking them into things.  It’s not that the polish gets chipped away, it’s just that the polish comes off in one, complete sheet.  It’s like peeling the plastic seal off the top of a cup of applesauce.

On Sunday I decided to give polishing my toes another try.  It had been a while and maybe my toes had decided to clean up their act.  Plus, I had an awesome shade of amethyst polish I’d been wanting to try.  (Yes, Amethyst.  I’m still a child in some aspects.) By yesterday morning the polish was holding strong.  My toe-confidence was returning.  Yessss.

However, this morning I awoke to find the fourth toe on each of my feet devoid of polish.  Nooo!  Why?  Why? What ever did I do to deserve such an awful fate?  Will I have naked toes for eternity?  Will my mother write me out of her will out of shame?  As I sat in the shower this morning, I took a tentative poke at my other toes.  The polish slid off down the drain before I could stop it.  Well, freakersons.

The only positive spin that I can put on this is that the polish lasted for 60 hours instead of the normal 48.  Maybe by the time that I’m in my 50’s I’ll have stylish toes once again.

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