my mom is one of those really sweet tiny women who are always trying to feed people. these ladies are in reality quite dangerous, because they're all about yummy treats and warm hugs and saying just the right thing to make you feel better. but in the midst of all that, they manage to sneak in zingers like, 'you're looking kind of chubby these days, maybe you need to visit that gym.'
one time when i was young, my mom told me that i had really pretty feet -- that they're my best feature. no followup about how smart, talented and beautiful the rest of me is, though. but i vaguely remember something about an old-time movie from the motherland in which the incredibly gorgeous heroine was sleeping under a blanket in a train compartment, and her equally debonair compartment mate (who was of course single and just the right age) fell in love with her based on his 3-hour view of her bare feet peeking out. somehow this guy committed his heart and soul to her forever before ever seeing her face. of course, i'm sure they lived happily, after they resolved pesky meddling from disapproving parents, danced around some trees and prevailed in several dshum-dshum altercations.
(the addictive crock, or should i say crack, that is motherland cinema is a topic for another day. besides, i have to wait till i've successfully completed all 12 steps before delving into it.)
my mom is a straight shooter. everyone loves the woman, with good reason. as sweet and generous as she is, she can be damn stingy with her compliments. but she'll never let you out of the house looking hideous.
i know this feet thing was meant as a compliment, but what i ask myself every time i get a pedicure is, what did she really mean? is she saying 'yeah, nice tootsies, kiddo, you got them from your father,' or is she saying, 'listen child, if you ever want to get a man, you need to cover yourself up and dangle your feet out so he doesn't run away.'
maybe i should get out those anklets with bells again this spring. that way i can distract people and not have to wear a bag over my head.
Saturday, March 26, 2005
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