Meeting ol’ Big Foot

They say the little things give you the most pleasure as you grow older. That may be true for other people but the two greatest sources of joy in my life are huge – the lovely Snapdragon’s feet.

I suffer from insomnia and often stare at these enormous extremities during the early morning hours of the summer months. Not in winter, though – then she hides them under the duvet where they make two family sized teepees in which the dogs can find shelter against the cold.

They’re not that exceptional. They’re well cared for, the skin is smooth and her toe nails are perfectly groomed and painted. As a matter of fact, I think they’re identical to most other women’s tootsies – just much bigger.

I say “I think”, because I don’t take much notice of other women’s feet. I’m not amused by average. Luckily for me, Snapdragon’s pair is very far from average and I find them gorgeous.

Not only for the way they look – as I said they look exactly like the common or garden variety – but for what they represent.

To me, that woman’s considerable feet are the two foundations on which our eccentric, yes, even dysfunctional, family is built. She’s the screaming, swearing, insulting backbone of the Lotriet family and I couldn’t be prouder of her. This backbone stands on solid ground and no hurricane or typhoon can move her.

Bigger feet give more support; they absorb the shocks of everyday life; they offer better balance and can support more weight. We, as a family, are privileged to have that.

She carries the weight of her family on her shoulders and we all know the pressure of that weight is evenly distributed. The person we trust as a mother and a wife treads well-balanced over the uneven terrain of everyday life.

Look, being married to a woman with big feet is not all moonshine and roses.

Surprisingly enough, she’s not much of a swimmer with those flippers. Neither is she a particularly talented sprinter. It is difficult to dance with her. And shoe shopping can be a nightmare, even if the popular designs don’t sell out as quickly as the more usual shoe sizes.

But in the end, I have found, women with big feet have big hearts. And neither the feet, nor the hearts, are made of clay.