When I woke up this morning I noticed that I had ten toes. This caused me great consternation because up until now I have only had eight, because that's normal, and I could not abide being different.
So I dressed carefully, choosing my daintiest outfit, matching shoes and bag, and ventured out, a little self-conscious but confident that I would be able to pull it off. However soon I noticed them looking, those eight toers, the smirks, the raised eye brows, the whispers, and in my distress ran home crying.
My husband was watching the footie but noticed my tears and since he asked me what was wrong I told him. The concern on his face was apparent, and I could hear him thinking in his head about the crisis he had ended up in, and whether this marriage was worth it, but all he said was, "I don't understand, I can see your toes, despite your cunning efforts, and you have eight toes!"
I looked at him, amazed at his lack of sensitivity, the gall that he had to taunt me so, but then looked down at my feet, and yes, silly me, I had miscounted, and was normal after all - eight cute little toes.
