My lovely wife nails it again (no pun intended however I rarely use the expression “nails it again”…okay, we’ll just say the pun was intended). Last night, my lovely wife offered up the thirty-eighth reason why girls are cool. Girls are cool because they take good care of their feet. Why is this cool? Who even really cares? Well, given that the pedicure industry generates close to $6 billion annually in the United States alone. That’s some pretty decent tax revenue at the very least. But what $6 billion in GDP represents is a commitment to beauty and perfection of even the minutest detail of the body. Girls are just like that. Now, as a man, I’ll tell out that my feet look more like medieval weapons used to defend a small township against an army of blood-thirsty warriors swinging tridents and morning stars. They’re callused on all edges, there’s slight discoloration on the edges, the heels feel like the stone that killed Goliath, the toes are crooked and hairy, all are pointing in different variations of north (a couple are pointing true northeast and they’re on the left foot) and the toenails are all of varying length and jaggedness. They look like either they’ve never been properly trimmed or they were trimmed with machete swung by a blind man. Some nails, depending on where I am with my training, might not even be there.
Ask my lovely wife what kinda damage my big toenail can do when I’m sleeping. I can draw blood with that thing. Let’s just say that the following picture illustrates my feet. Sandals thrown in for effect. I don’t wear sandals.
And, in full admittance, when I trim my big toes’ nails, I do it with one of the garden shears-sized toenail clippers because it’s the only thing that can muscle through those things. Every other nail is trimmed sans tool. By hand. Okay, that’s gross. I’m sorry.
Girls take good care of their feet. It’s important that calluses are sanded down (although the thought of sanding down your calluses with a pumice stone grosses me out more than trimming your toenails by without a tool), toenails are painted like small little collectable ornaments and then are displayed beautifully for everyone to see. They’re works of art. Now, I would contend that, from purely a frugal male perspective, that feet are meant to be abused, worked, stood on, ran on, put through absolute hell. They’re supposed to look abused. Neglected. They’re feet. You don’t like the way your own feet look, do like millions of people do everyday…put a sock on ’em.
*street cred now completely gone…this last line was a desperate attempt to plead my way onto the girls’ team figuring it’s better than being in the weird middle ground like some Libertarian on Election Day.