I am an awesome detective. And my awesome I mean dim witted because this took me a long time to figure out. And I lost many socks in the process.

If you are confused (and I totally understand if you are), a few weeks back I wrote a post about Courtney Stodden. At the end of the post there was a non sequitur about my socks, with a promise for a later explanation as to why I just randomly mentioned them. The next day I wrote said explanation on a different site I write for (because that is how my brain works).

So my shoes were eating my socks and causing holes almost every day. I blamed the shoes, but refused to retire them because they are cute. So I took their constant sock eating as a sign that I have quircky shoes. I mean, isn’t that what we say about our friends who happen to eat socks?

Last night I got a hole in my right sock. This is the first time my right shoe caused any problems. “Oh no, not you too…” I groaned in my head (because it was late, and Hubby was sleeping, and I didn’t want him to wake up finding me talking to my shoes.) Oddly, the left sock was intact. So I threw away the right one, and put the left one in the hamper. Since I have been going through so many socks lately I stopped throwing away entire pairs. I will throw away the torn one, and once two get holes I use the left over ones to make new pairs. So basically I am wearing Easter bunnies on my right foot and pink hearts on my left.

Anyway, I am totally off topic now, and I had a point that ended with me getting a pedicure, I just have to find my way back there. So, after disposing of the socks I just found it too curious that the sock holes reversed feet. I started looking inside both shoes and poking around. It was glaring right at me, and I cannot believe I had not seen it sooner. I have been blaming my shoes all this time, when really I should have been blaming my feet for eating the socks.

If you are still reading this I am sure the suspense is killing you. Just a little? You see, I have not had a pedicure since Ducky was about five weeks old (right before I went back to work). Tomorrow he is going to be nine months old. I can’t count, but even I know it has been a long time. So my toe nails (despite being trimmed down as to not stab Hubby in his sleep), are very sharp, jagged, and pretty messed up. I put on some blue polish last month. But that is about the same as trying to put some powder on a leper. But the shoes have been absolved. So at least one good thing happened here. If I end up getting a pedicure as a result of this, then we can count two good things.

Now we can all stop glaring at my shoes. And I need a pedicure.