Green Feet

It was almost dark. A noise startled me! What was it? I went to investigate.

I looked all around and saw nothing. Then I looked down. There was something that had little green feet. What kind of beast had ten green toes and stinky feet? 

It was a puzzle to me, that is until I looked in a long mirror and saw that those St. Patrick green feet belonged to me! Whatever would I do?

It all started when I was just a snotty nosed kid playing in the dirt. My mom said, “Go put some shoes on!” I argued, “I don’t want to put on shoes. They hurt and make my feet hot.”

She questioned, “How can you stand to go barefooted?” Mama was one that wanted her feet covered. “Go put some shoes on!”

“Shoes make my feet hurt.”

Sometimes she relented, other times she wouldn’t budge. I grumbled and complained the whole time my feet were being smothered.

As I got older, I had to wear shoes more often. My feet were hot, sweaty, stinky and then, they started breaking out with water blisters. Ouch! The folks tried all kinds of remedies. Finally, Daddy took me to the doctor. And you know what he did? He prescribed a pair of clunky ugly brogans and some kind of liquid that had to be applied by a sponge. And do you know what color it was? Yup – green – and it stained my feet. 

You may not know this, but people make fun of someone who has green feet.

One day Daddy said, “Come on. I’m taking you to a dermatologist.” What could a dermatologist do for hot, sweaty, stinky, blistered green feet? The doctor was smart. He took one look at my feet and said, “Ah ha, you must have one parent who is hot natured and one parent who has allergies.” How did he know that just by looking at my feet? Well, however he knew it, he also knew what to do. He created his own formula for a special ointment, and powder to sprinkle on my feet. I was instructed not to pop the blisters but rather cut them with a sharp pair of scissors, then apply ointment and sprinkle with power. His best instruction was, “Go barefooted as much as possible.”

When we got home, Daddy told Mama what the doctor said. I’m sure I wore a rather arrogant, “I told you so,” face. I must say Mama was penitent and apologized for all those years of not believing me. Never again did she complain about me not wearing shoes!

They are still hot, sweaty, and stinky, but they are not green!

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