I’m almost back, but I still haven’t had a chance to draw you a picture. Please don’t hate me. I did try to take a photograph of the Mr’s feet (you’ll see why in a second), but that didn’t work out (that, too, will become clear in a second.) What’s not clear is why the Mr is still married to me, because I say things like:

Me: I hope our kids get my feet.

Mr: What?

Me: Look at how cute my feet are compared to yours.

Mr: Seriously? I hope our kids are healthy.

Me: Sure. Me, too, healthy but with my feet.

Mr: What’s wrong with my feet?

Me: They’re flat. So flat it’s like you’re walking around with flippers on.

Mr: *blinks*

Me: How come you don’t swim faster?

Mr: OK. I get it.

Me (realizing I have overstepped–haha. Get it? Oh my.): No, I mean. They’re so ugly they’re cute.

Mr: Nice recovery.

Me: They’re like the Chinese Cresteds of feet.

Mr: Are you finished?

Me: They’re like the Shar Peis of feet.

Mr (gets up and walks out of the room)

Me: Like the Yoda of feet!

Had the Mr been a Star Wars fan, perhaps this would have been a good way to win him back. And I would have been able to include a picture of his feet for this post. Sadly, he’s indifferent to Star Wars and would not be still for long enough for me to snap a photo.