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A tale of my toes

I had never had a pedicure until last year, when Mama took me to get one.
No I'm no dirt poor and un-aware that people get pedicures. I had had manicures, but never the feet.

I'm not specifically sure why. I've never had a bikini wax either but I'll be sure to let you know if I do.

So back to my toes.

I have ugly toes. Not hammer toes, not grotesque ballernia toes, sorry to all the swans out there, but really your feet look nasty. You may have tiny little butts and tight thighs but your feet, oh they are nasty.

Genetically speaking I am pre-disposed to in-grown toenails. I would get them so often that soaking in Epsom salts became a weekly habit. Once in a while a icky infection would present and I'd have to become best freinds with hydrogen peroxide and triple antibiotic.

About 15 years ago I had this lovely procedure done. The official name is lateral matriectomy. It's the surgical removal and deadening of the nail bed.

Long story short, my nails are more narrow than the original nail bed. The toe doesn't re-adjust itself to the size of your nail. The nail bed is there and if your nail is smaller than the bed, there is just some extra space on the side. Sort of like the borders on a picture. Think smaller picture so large borders.

The doctor puts an acidic solution, usually Phenol, on the offending nail area, and wa~lah...no more in-grown toes.

But now my nails trap dirt on the sides. It's not so nice looking. I can scrape it out but than the skin gets dry. Instead I choose to go and pay someone to soak and clean my nasty little toes.

This tale doesn't have a sad ending, nor a happy one, it just ends. Ends with the knowledge that tomorrow I shall go and have my pedicure and all will be right with the world for the next 10 days, toe speaking.

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