Saturday, March 14, 2015

Baby Feet

Some things you can't help inheriting; I got  a literal view of life from my mother and a case of bad feet from my father. 

"It's OK honey. You'll be beautiful. You are beautiful. The cheese grater. We'll use," her voice trailed off as the small Vietnamese woman with long slender fingers squeezed something onto my heels from a plastic bottle. "It's OK honey," she repeated while reaching into her bin for a cheese grater. Yes, the same kind I use to sprinkle Parmesan on pasta. 

"You'll have baby feet," she added showing all the dead skin she peeled from my heels. 

I leaned back, closing my eyes, grateful that this woman was trying hard to make this pedicure a good experience. 

As I slipped my baby feet into my wool socks and clogs after the pedicure, I realized the power of a little woman and a cheese grater. Wouldn't my father who fought with his feet, be jealous and horrified at the same time!


Raeily said...

Eek! I would love to have baby feet but I'm so uncomfortable with letting others touch my feet! You are braver than me.

Amanda said...

I'm jealous of your pedicure! My own feet could stand to spend some quality time with a sweet person and a cheese grater! The worst is the scratchy sound of my feet on the sheets!

I love the connections you made between past and present. Great post!