|Not quite. Though I do love this book--and the rest of Dr. Seuss--dearly.|
I have large feet. Not horrendously huge, mind you, but large. Above average.
It runs in the family. My mother, with nines, and my father, with twelves, got together and created me, with tens (well, sometimes they're only 9 1/2 W, but only sometimes, and those are practically impossible to find anyway). Tall One caught up with Dad a while ago and will probably out-pace him him soon, if he hasn't already.
I grew up with small-footed friends. Their feet were always smaller than mine. Their feet are still smaller than mine (there was one friend with bigger feet as we were children, but I think we're about even now). Some friends share shoes, I understand. That seems kind of weird, to me, but even if I had wanted too I couldn't have.
Some people are selfconscious about their feet. Apparently there are all sorts of hangups about how large feet are masculine and small feet are feminine. I don't get that, but whatever. I haven't spent my life trying to be especially feminine, so people out there are free to think whatever they want. I will proudly don my hefty hiking boots (which I purchased from the men's department, by the way, because the women's boots at Walmart were too wimpy for my taste) and clomp around the world. They keep my feet warm. And they can crush things.
As I was growing up, it seemed like my feet always grew in bursts. They were never the same size long enough for me to get used to them. As a result, I was probably the clumsiest person on the block. Actually... that may not entirely be my feet's fault. But I know for certain that approximately 70% of the falling I did was a result of misinterpreting my foot size and tripping over things.
I like my feet. They match the rest of me. I have larger hands than the female average, too. Long arms, long legs... having big feet just seems like it should follow along in there. The only thing I dislike about having big feet is how hard it is to find shoes. Stores either don't carry many styles of size ten women's shoes; or shoes that are perfectly wonderful in, say, a size 6, look awkward in a larger size.
My question is, how do people with small feet function? I use my feet as a balancing system, a way to keep upright, and as a means of locomotion. I'm really just barely succeeding at all those things, too. So how do the small-footed people of the world do it?
Anyway, I should probably go home now. Trying to avoid the cold by holing up in the library only serves to make my future journey, at a later and darker time, that much colder. Although... I could stay. The library is open 24 hours. But that would be stupid, and I would get really hungry, and eventually I would need to shower and change my clothes and brush my teeth. No go.
P.S. - Speaking of feet, I dropped a cup of cocoa on one of mine last night. Surprises are fun sometimes, I'm learning. :)