I really don’t like feet. Especially other people’s feet. And I also really don’t like toenails. I can’t put a finger (heh, finger!) on exactly why, but other people’s pieds just kinda gross me out. So the gods of love must have had a good, long laugh when they paired me with Husband: Man of Most Disgusting Feet Ever.
Now, you might be thinking that’s not a very nice thing to say out there on the world wide web. But I feel fully entitled because:
1. I have to sleep next to those horrific feet.
2. Those feet caused me tremendous amounts of pain and suffering this week.
I can hear you all shaking your heads, whispering that poor Husband! His wife is a nut! But this is justified insanity people. Because not only does Husband have feet that give me nightmares. He likes to put those feet on the bed, and then CLIP HIS TOENAILS FEET TALONS onto the bedspread. ON THE BED!! Where we sleep!
I’m crying sad scared tears just thinking about that.
So after several arguments about why this was maybe the most horrifying and disgusting practice ever, Husband agreed to at least clip/saw/trim those things somewhere other than my place of rest. Usually when I’m out of earshot, preferably when I’m not even home, so I can keep on pretending that he doesn’t even have feet to begin with.
And this plan was working well until I decided to do a little vacuuming this week. Because as I made my way into our bedroom, I stumbled upon some weird debris on Husband’s side of the bed. It was early and I couldn’t really see, so I leaned in for closer inspection. I almost put my hand out to touch the little white semi-circle scraps that came into focus.
And then I think I blacked out. Because do you know what the most horrific thing in the whole wide world is? It’s not nuclear war, it’s not festering, pus-filled wounds, it’s not even a broken bottle of champagne. Nope. It’s the sound of someone else’s extremely large toenail clippings being sucked up into the vacuum cleaner.
Oh. My. God. I think I’m having a panic attack right now just thinking about it: A pile of TOENAILS. On my floor. I’m trying to find the happy place…find the happy place Jen! But my happy place has TOENAILS on the floor.
After sucking them up, vomiting 10 times and then watching my head spin around exorcist-style for a few minutes, I calmed down enough to email Husband. I think the subject line was “Seriously.” The rest went something like, “How can I even consider bringing children into the world with a man who leaves toenail clippings in a pile on the floor?!” and “a pile of poo would have been 100 times less horrifying” and “I am not above chopping your feet off while you sleep.”
Harsh? Maybe. Irrational and inconsolable? Definitely. But Husband got my drift. He called to apologize profusely, and promised never to emotionally scar me with his toes or toenails ever again. But just in case, I’m wearing flip-flops around the house. And giving him a pedicure for Christmas.
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So can you guess what this week’s vocabulary word means?
Definition: dirty, filthy, rotten, totally and absolutely disgusting. As in:
“For the love of all that’s holy and true, why are your feet so freaking dégueulasse?!?!”