Every laugh at how a random conversation will trigger completely unrelated memories? I was making small talk at the gym the other day after my workout and somehow we got on the subject of feet. My buddy Tom mentioned something about a guy’s feet.1 He shared how much he hated going on dates with guys that don’t take care of their feet. I’m sure it isn’t an over unique fetish but it triggered all kinds of memories from my childhood.
As a child I hated wearing shoes. I grew up in the piney woods and my only impression of shoes wasn’t a positive one. I felt they were a nuisance. I refused to wear them anywhere except school or hunting.2 Naturally, it wasn’t uncommon for the bottom of my feet to be calloused with very thick hard skin. It didn’t matter where I was, if I wasn’t fearful of thorns, I was barefoot. There were no concrete sidewalks for miles and miles and that meant no fear of hot surfaces or burnt feet. I even ran track in high school barefoot. Or, at least I did once my coach noticed I won more races when he let me race w/o shoes.
Of course, as an adult I take decent care of my feet. They stay clean, clipped and overall cared for; gone are the heavy callouses. The soles are now a bit sensitive but I still walk around barefoot on most flat surfaces. I often have to remind myself to wear shoes when running out around the block with Cooper. But that has more to do with not wanting to track debris back onto our new carpet.
Thinking back, it does seem a bit gross but back then I never thought anything of it. I’m sure my buddy Tom would have found me particularly gross. I neglected to share the flood of memories with him. heehee