So back to the tale of the dark feet. Here is the link to part 1, incase you missed it http://mummytales.com/my-body/tale-of-the-dark-feet/.
The hubby did indeed agree to scrub my feet, and so one day he assembled the basin, the soap, the scrubbing stone, the scented oil and the towel, then embarked on the feet mission. But enjoy the experience is something he did NOT do at all. Judging from his facial expressions, I don’t know what it is about the scrubbing he didn’t like, all I could do was keep feeling sorry for him as he did so. Meanwhile, I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Getting a foot scrub really is a very nice experience to have.
Now, I can only speculate on what might have been making the whole experience an unhappy one for the hubby.
First, he may have wondered how on earth he would be able to get them feet clean and to their original color of luscious pink, just like they were when we first met. Ohhh well, I’m carrying his baby so touché.
Then maybe it’s because he was not perched comfortably in a way that would have made the feet scrubbing experience easier – like they do in the beauty parlors. He was in a squatting position while I was seated comfortably on the couch. Yeah, I guess even though he is ‘somewhat’ fit, squatting for over half an hour while scrubbing ashen feet is no easy task even for the fittest of sportsmen.
Or maybe it is because he kept say
ing ‘men don’t do this kind of thing’, insinuating that some tasks are best left for the female folk. Might be some truth there, because among my worst nightmares is when my car is due for service or there is some rattling noise or leakage indicating it and it needs a visit to the garage. At such times I usually have recurring nightmares and hotsweats just thinking of the trip to the garage. That happened a lot before I got married, when I used to make trips to the garage (with a very snorted face) and while seated on an old dirty creaky greasy bench surrounded by greasy, loud mechanics waiting for them to fix whatever was wrong with the car, I used to curse beneath my breath saying ‘women are not supposed to do this kind of thing’. Not anymore now, thanks to the hubby who sorts out my car woes.
So anyhoo, the hubby did indeed return the lovely color and shine back to my feet, which made me very happy. By the way, Jesus said that the greatest act of humility is that of washing someone else’s feet. So let’s just say that the hubby is a good Christian, and I hope that being the good Christian that he has shewn himself to be, he will continue to perform his Christian duties every so often:-)