July 09, 2008
The Spare's New Kink
People say that I most closely resemble my father. The list of traits that I have inherited from him include:
1. My hair, both in color and texture.
2. My height.
3. My shoulders.
4. My uncanny ability to sweat through any set of clothes in under 3 minutes.
However, there are also many things about me that were passed down through my mother:
1. My ample bosom (God bless ya, Mom!).
2. My excellent hostessing capabilities.
3. My tendancy to laugh hysterically when most inappropriate.
4. My weird elf-toes.
That's right. Weird elf-toes.
My Mom and I (and I think, one or both of my sisters) have big toes that kind of... curl up. The toenail points up at about a 45 degree angle. It's bizarre.
In high school, in the 80s, when canvas Keds were all the rage, I would burn through mine with unnerving ease. No matter how short I kept my big toenail clipped, I always rubbed a hole through the top of my shoes.
And socks. That's always the first part of my socks to go, way before the heels.
I'm sure that my ugly-ass toes contributed to my hatred of toes in general. (But they look good on you, Mom!) Feet are grotesque and alien, and I don't like to acknowledge that they are actually part of my body. They're like the help. I know they're there, doing their job, but I'm certainly not going to have a relationship with them.
"But, Wenchie," you ponder. "What about all the luxurious slendor that you lavish upon your feet? Certainly you wouldn't do that for appendages that you don't like!"
Interesting train of logic, but you would be wrong. Pedicures are the only thing that make my feet even remotely tolerable. I consider going out in public in sandals and unpolished toenails to be THE HEIGHT OF SAVAGERY!
Needless to say, I don't understand foot fetishes, shoe fetishes, or what the hell is so erotic about having your big toe sucked. That's just gross.
Now, I've told you all that so I can tell you this.
I was at Billi's house last week, and we were watching "WIPEOUT" after dinner -- a show that I am ashamed to laugh hysterically at, but the Suckerpunch Wall really has to be seen to be fully appreciated.
The Boy Child was on my lap, so all I could see was the back of his head and most of the t.v. Suddenly, there was a strange and unpleasant sensation on my foot. I looked down to see The Spare with his chompers set into my big toe!
The Spare was biting my big toe! BITING! The same toe that was inside of my shoes all day!
GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
He kisses my sister with that mouth!
I couldn't very well snatch my foot away without taking some of his teeth with me, so I just screamed until he released my toe from his treacherous maw of his own accord.
"That's weird," mused Billi, callously unphased by my torment. "He's never bitten anyone before."
WHAT?! So the boy who had never before set tooth to flesh, saw MY TOE as so succulent as to be irresistable???
In the inargueable words of Hank Hill -- That Boy Ain't Right.