the politics of dysfunctional feet

it’s such a simple thing when you think about it.

i mean, one foot in front of the other…how difficult can that be? apparently it’s a little harder than it looks.

one minute they were working fine, and then before she knew it…something went wrong. it was like they just stopped. her feet stopped but her body kept on going. it was like they were stuck to the concrete. she just laid there for a minute…face first…overcome with a look of bewilderment.

after scraping herself up and collecting her things, she went inside. the pain was beginning to shoot through her hand and out the tips of her fingers. she tried to push the buggy, but it was a slightly difficult task since she was now one-handed and ambidexterity was not her strong suit. her hand was becoming increasingly numb and the drops of tears had now become a steady stream.

so, she called him. she hated to whine, but he always makes her feel better. he always knows just what to say to make things seem not quite so bad. and it worked. he laughed, of course, but by the end of the conversation, the tears were gone and she was looking at dvds.

too bad the pain was still there. as a matter of fact, it was still there a week later. so, she finally decided to let a doctor look at it. turns out, it’s a really bad sprain and it’s going to take a long time to heal. so, she still can’t do certain things even two weeks later. and she’s really getting tired of having to ask other people to help her do simple things…but at the same time she knows that if she tries to use it too much, she’ll just keep hurting it over and over again and it might not ever heal.

all of this because her feet don’t work right?

(we won’t even mention the screen door that slammed on her ankle or the bathroom stall door that she walked straight into with her face all within the last week…actually in the same night. don’t tell her we mentioned that.)

and then this…

“so it’s about alcohol and tithing, then?” the voice booms across the room…apparently turning a deaf ear.

“no, that’s not what it’s about at all…” were the words calmly spoken as a lengthy discussion ensued about the true reasons behind their concerns.

…still he barks, “so, what you’re saying is, it’s about the alcohol and the tithing?”

and she looks down at her feet as once again they’re beginning to stick…this time to the carpet under the pew beneath her…