~ A Foot's Lament
Every Friday, I read about what's in store for me during my pregnancy for the upcoming week. I like to be prepared and know what to expect. I took the knowledge of acne breakouts, swollen feet and intense heartburn with a swallow and a nod and trudged through those weeks with the fortified bravery of a hero. However, the news I have received this week has broken me. It has ripped my spirit from my body and left my soul keening from the horrific loss ahead. I checked and double checked these facts and have been told by the world's most leading expert in the subject matter (a.k.a my mom) that these facts are true. I weep with heartbreak.
Over the next few weeks, my joints will loosen therefore causing my feet to grow an entire shoe size (possibly, but since everything else has grown to mutant like proportions thus far, why would my feet be any different). Why?!? Why must everything grow? Why can't I have something actually shrink for once? What is next? My nose? My ears? My teeth? Will I closely resemble a fat, hairy bunny before this venture is over with? You folks may be wondering why such a thing as foot growth saddens me. To know the answer to this mystery you must join me in a most magnificent adventure into my glorious walk-in closet that exists beyond the goblin city and through the meadows of unicorns. Open the magical doors to that closet and hear the angles sing on high. There, shining in all their infinite glory are over thirty pairs of boots, pumps, sandals, and various other treasure trekkers that I've been purchasing for over ten years. I've worked hard to own these feet candy. Many hours of overtime went into purchasing my Michael Kors, and my Stuart Weiztman each in every one of them in a dainty size six.
Now I sit on the floor of my shrine with my Manolos clutched in my hand, gently sobbing while the angels sing a beautiful lament. These shoes are my kindred spirits, my foot joy of life, my life long pedipanions. To say goodbye to these wonderful treasures rips my soul apart. Only Dorothy with her ruby slippers (silver if you go by the book) could know my pain. I feel like a house has just dropped on me. I try to measure how much my feet have grown by slipping my foot into my Gucci slippers like a naive Cinderella. Alas, my foot is so swollen that only my toe fits. I retreat my elephant foot from the precious pump and place it back onto the alter. Sigh. Slowly, I close the doors as the angels sing a final lament. My room is dark and cold as I leave. I wipe a tear from my eye and decend the stairs.
I lay on the couch and caress Bump as he is my only comfort. My husband enters and I spit venom at him as he bends down to kiss me. He retreats slowly, backing away without taking his eyes from me. I think of the bright side of things; of the wonderful life that will be smiling up at me in just a few months time. A smile passes over my lips as I think of a way Jeff will make this up to me. It's about time I got a new Coach purse.