No Feeties, Please

We found these in Target. In the men's section, not the boys.  The more I think about it, the more I wonder.  What exactly is the target market for this particular outfit?  Men with unfulfilled superhero fantasies?  Women with unfulfilled superhero fantasies about their husbands?  Large children with unfulfilled superhero fantasies about their parents? 

Are these jammies?  They totally look like jammies.  Except that there's no feet on them.

I know that people seem to love footie pajamas.  For some, the warmth of wearing jammies with feet brings to mind childhood winters spent curled in front of the television after a day spent outside in the snow.  Those people would not be me.

I like my feet bare, thank you.

It's not that my feet are particularly gorgeous.  My ankles are covered in petichia, a vestige of my blood pressure. I have two toes longer than my big toe, which I'm told means that I'm bossy.  I've got a hammer toe that I've named MC, because it amuses me.  I'm not in line for America's Top Foot Model, by any stretch.  My feet are well worn, because they are on duty most of the day, and for several trip during the night.  But I like them bare, just the same. I am more comfortable that way.

When I was a kid, I was barefoot most of the summer, just like most kids at the time. Playing in the backyard, playing on the playground, walking to the local pool, all in my bare feet. It didn't matter how hot the asphalt was--my feet seemed immune to the searing pain that others felt.   In the winter time, I was usually barefoot inside the house. I would have been barefoot outside the house, but my mother had a fit, and you know what that means.  Shoes and socks.  The second I got home, however, the offending items were pulled off, because my toes were sweaty.  Nobody likes sweaty toes!

These days, I wear shoes that are open toed, even in the middle of winter.  If you ever see me wearing socks, it's because my feet are finally a color of blue that I have to address.  But the socks are on only as long as it takes for my feet to warm up, and then they are off.  I'm a hit at staff meetings for that very reason.  On the coldest nights, I will be completely covered...except for my feet. If my feet are hot, I can't sleep, it is just too uncomfortable.

I can't be the only weirdo out there with hot feet.  Or can I?  Feet are not usually topics one can bring up randomly in conversation, so I don't really know. All I know is that my feet are bare and I like it that way.

Jobs That Would Suck

Let me be perfectly clear in saying that there is absolutely NO shame in any kind of honest work. Well, except partisan politics. And corporate lobbying. But honest work for honest pay is to be commended, especially in these days of selfishness and greed. If I am completely truthful, however, there are some jobs that I wouldn't last even an hour attempting. Maybe not even five minutes.

For instance, those guys who stand on street corners, holding signs that advertise new homes or a going out of business sale? I wouldn't be able to do that job, even if it paid 50 bucks an hour. The exhaust from passing cars would trigger an asthma attack, my ankles would swell from standing too long, and my arms would give out from holding up that danged sign. And if the temperature is more than 75 degrees outside, I'd probably faint from heat exhaustion. On the other hand, people who saw me out there would likely feel very sorry for me and might give me money to buy myself a chair. And an umbrella to keep the sun from boiling my brain.

I need a job that keeps me somehow occupied mentally. Waiting tables, pumping gas, digging ditches, window washing--these sorts of jobs involve more thinking than most people consider. Holding up a sign for hours--not so much. I would start thinking about how hot it was, and how my feet hurt, etc. It would be as if my aches and pains were several whiny children in the backseat of the car trip from hell. Not productive or helpful. Holding up a sign on a street corner is one job that, for me, would suck.