Quirky Toes Introduction | Celeste Johnson

Sometimes in life you don't realize how quirky you are until…………..

Late one night, while watching TV with my husband and kids, I laid my legs in his lap in hopes of a foot massage. I was hoping he could read my mind - why do us women do that I will never know. Instead of gently massaging my feet, he grabbed my toes and tried to crack them - like one would in trying to crack their fingers' knuckles.

Crrraaack! He managed to crack my big toe on my right foot.

"OW!" I exclaimed. "That didn't feel very good!!"

Of course Bill laughed and tried to finish the rest of my toes on that same foot. I recoiled my feet and stared at him in only the way a wife can stare at her husband in situations such as these. If looks could kill, I would be in prison right now.

Bill was still laughing when our four kids joined in with their giggles. I guess I really don't have four kids, I have five. I am a mom trying to raise four kids and one husband.

At that point, the kids started encouraging Bill. They all thought it was funny that I didn't like my toes being cracked because they all love it. I sat cross legged on the couch, clutching my legs over my feet in hopes that Bill couldn't muster enough strength to pull out my feet and let the cracking continue.

Not only did Bill try to release my toes from their legged prison, but the kids joined in the efforts, trying to help their daddy. My blood started to boil, I hate being in situations like these. Like a volcano, it didn't take long before I erupted.

"STOP IT RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. I thought to myself that the people in Kansas probably heard me too and maybe, just maybe, someone stopped what naughty thing they were doing, thinking they just heard their own mom.

Silence. Everything was still. All five bodies of my oppressors were frozen mid move. Those few seconds of silence dragged on until slowly but surely, each kid and even my husband retreated back to the safety of their original seats. No one dared to speak; no one dared to look at me.

After what seemed like days, I carefully uncoiled my feet and my legs, breathed a sigh of relief, and that was when I realized something. Something I subconsciously knew my whole life was brought into my conscience mind and it was eating at me, grating at me, gnawing at me, driving me mad.

My left foot's big toe was mad at me, begging me to do something I really didn't want done. I tried to resist it by smiling at my family. I apologized for screaming and turned my attention back to the TV.

Not even the humor of 3rd Rock from the Sun could sway my toe any longer. I decided that I wanted to try, without anyone noticing, crack that left foot big toe, so it would be even with the right foot's big toe.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't crack it! My toe’s cries escalated. One more try, didn't work.

Nonchalantly, I placed my left foot in Bill's lap again. He looked at me. He looked at my foot. He looked at me again, as if I was trying to test him.

I smiled timidly and he raised his eyebrows. The look of utter confusion ran across his face.

"Honey, could you crack my left foot's big toe?" I sweetly asked. All the kids turned and looked at me in disbelief, as if I had just eaten a spider. Bill opened his eyes wide and wondered suspiciously, "Why?"

"I am not tricking you," I reassured him. I could tell he didn't believe me.

I gathered what dignity I had left, smiled ever so sweetly and explained as if it made the most perfect sense in the world, "I need you to even out my toes."

They all peered at me dumbfounded. I explained that I justrealized that my whole life, whenever something happened to one or more of my toes on one foot, without thinking I would even out the other foot's toes by doing the same thing to them.

An evil grin crawled across Bill's face.

'Uh oh,' I thought to myself. ‘This isn't going to end well.’

Bill, with his evil grin, whispered, "Of course I will help you even out your toes, Sweetie."

And before I could pull my feet back, he grabbed my left foot, and cracked a toe. Was it the big toe you ask? Well if you know Bill, you know it wasn't. It was the toe next to the big toe.

Now what a pickle I was in. I had the big toe on my left foot screaming, "Hey that's not fair, I wanted to be cracked." Along with right foot's 2nd toe shouting, "What about me?!! Crack me!"

"OW!!!!!!!!!!" was all I could get out before Bill went hog wild and started cracking toes left and right, but never bothering to even out the toes.

Finally I yelled, "OK! YOU WIN! JUST PLEASE FIX MY TOES!!!"

With a huge smile, and a chorus of hysterics from our kids, Bill gladly grabbed all the toes on my left foot. CRACK! It hurt. Then grudgingly I let him take my right foot. CRACK! Now all toes were the same and even; my feet were painfully satisfied.

All was well...........Or so I thought. I looked at Bill who had a sinister look stealing across his face. He gingerly reached out and squeezed my right foot's big toe. He sat back with a proud look on his face, looked at me, and waited.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Time crept on. Arrrgh! I couldn't take it anymore and pleaded for him to even them out. Bill smiled with utter glee. 'This is going to be fun,' he thought to himself.