Yesterday, it came to my attention that both my sister and my cousin read this blog, and commented that I have written about how they used to torment and tease me as a youngster. ("Don't think we don't read that blog of yours...and you're WEIRD!" Seriously, how long have they known me? They need to read this blog to tell them that?)
I would like to give another example of how they've made fun of me. (Honestly, I know it's always done out of love and never maliciously, before anything gets misconstrued!)
I once had two grandpas (as do most people.) My mom's father passed away when I was five, my father's father when I was 10. My mom's father was quite tall (actually, he probably wasn't. In my family, if you're a girl and you break 5'4, they send you to modeling classes...so he was probably about 5'9. That is very very tall in my family) and my dad's dad was short. Even though my mom's dad was quite a bit younger than my dad's, we called my mom's father Big Grandpa and my father's father Little Grandpa.
One day, we were talking about our grandpas, and my cousin commented that it sounded like we were talking about an Indian tribe. We then proceded to give each other Indian nicknames.
I was dubbed Little Fingers for Toes.
I most certainly DO have fingers for toes, but it just sounds so insulting when somebody else notices it. My toes are freakishly long, and as I look down at them right now, my fourth toe is probably as long as the first one. When we would be hanging out on the couch as kids, my sister would always make me put a blanket over my barefeet so she wouldn't have to look at them. My own father used to joke that I'd probably be really really great at climbing trees.
When we had to send our RSVP cards for my cousin's wedding seven years ago, my sister wrote the name "Miss Britney Spears" on hers, and I put "Miss Little Fingers For Toes" on mine
(If you can't beat 'em...)
Yes, I have crazy hideous feet. Plus, I am now developing hammertoes due to all the walking in uncomfortable shoes that I do. (Too much information?)
While we're on this topic of my deformities and my sister and my cousin, I would now like to talk about my crazy fingers. I think I actually have quite nice hands and fingers. For a 5'0 person, my hands are on the larger side, and my fingers are long and slender.
I would most likely be able to be a hand model in dish detergent if it weren't for one thing:
They are oddly crooked and I absolutely cannot straighten them. (Like my toes, they are also freakishly long, and if they WERE straight, my pinkies would probably be as long as my ring fingers...so maybe this was God's way of evening my hands out so I wouldn't look like a total freak.) They don't hurt, but I do get uncomfortable while driving and need to tuck them under when I use a computer mouse. I really don't know if there's anything I could do to fix them...perhaps I could get them broken and reset.
But I bet that would hurt.
This weekend was my sister's bachelorette party weekend. While the barhopping portion of it was about as fun for me as a trip to the DMV, we spent yesterday afternoon at the spa. I had my very first organic boisenberry facial (and now I want to get one every week! Those things are AWESOME!).
The woman gave me a hand massage as the mask on my face dried, and she began tugging on my fingers.
Including my pinkies.
She was tugging on my pinkies!
The ones that ABSOLUTELY DO NOT STRAIGHTEN!
I tensed up and just prayed that she'd leave my pinkies alone.
She finally said, "Is this bothering you?" and I blurt out, "Yes! My pinkies don't straighten! They're just really really crooked!"
This fascinated her, and I had to explain to her, "Yes, they've always been like that. No, I've never tried to get them fixed. No, they don't hurt, but it is uncomfortable, and I don't like people tugging on them."
She responded with, "Well, everybody has their abnormalities."
I repeated this experience to my sister and cousin on the way home, and they both laughed, and talked about my crazy pinkies and ridiculous Fingers for Toes.
They DID just open a Ripley's Believe it or Not in NYC.
Here I come!