I have Fred Flintstone feet. Yes, genetics gave me undeniable cuteness, superior intelligence, lightening wit, and a loving, compassionate heart. But it also gave me clunky, squarish feet. Years of hiking, backpacking, and jogging have taken their toll, too. The last straw was a mountaineering class I took a few years back. I spent six days on a glacier wearing plastic mountaineering boots. And when the boots came off, well, the nails came right off with them. (Ick is right.)
Now, I'm not saying my feet are hideous. They're just not as cute as the rest of me. But they'll just have to do. So here they are, in all their (hastily drawn) glory:
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