Friday, January 23, 2009
Love and all the crusty pieces.
"Someday you'll love somebody enough to touch their feet."
"HELL NO, I WILL NEVER, EVER, love somebody that much- in fact I may love my children that much only while their feet are still fat, haven't touched the ground, and are wrapped in booties disguised as Converse Sneakers. That's the only time."
You know when you start to realize that maybe a lot of the the stuff you your parents said that seemed like "SHIT" in your undeveloped brain is actually true, for instance the feet thing. The other day while My Love was coughing up a lung and snotting everywhere with a heinous cold (I was a willing glutton to contract still making out with him like it was my life's purpose), without hesitation cuddled up in his arms his feet wrapped around me (the way you sit with your baby in the kiddie pool), I reached down....and grabbed his FEET. His bare feet, with both of my hands and just started kneading them? Like it was a fucking piece of dough that I was going to bake and munch on later. Like, "OOO feet, I love you."
The worst part, my MOTHER the always-right-never-loses-told-ya-so- QUEEN, gave me "the look" that just said...."SEE, Mommy knows best."
Love; love makes you like (love?) feet. Crusty feet, big feet, dry feet, awkward shaped toenails feet, clammy feet, socked feet.....whatever feet they've got, you love them. Love makes you love snot and hair in weird places and eye boogers. Love makes you want to contract a beastly mucus cough just so that your love won't feel as disgusting spitting their phlegm into a napkin while you watch if you're doing it too.
Love means taking all the undesirable parts and loving them anyway.
Love is knowing their faults and instead of leaving them because of their habitual lateness, missed dates and disorganization- you buy them a planner and say, "it's all good babe, there's even a belt clip so you don't lose that shit." Blindness? Maybe sometimes, but I'd call is acceptance for the WHOLE person that you love....instead of the glittery pieces that make up their persona. Loving their underground zits and sleep talking, their cover stealing and the fact that they make you look bad in front of your Mother- only because he's nicer to her than you are.
Ah, love.......love means loving feet, when in the past- I would've rather licked a tarantula.
And here I am all gushy and feet touchy and "hold on you've got a little something on your face, let me lick my finger and wipe it off for you...." Love? I think so.
What does love make YOU do????