The agony of da feets
So A week ago, I went to a new place with my diva daughter to get our toes done (convenience) and somehow, the woman cut my heel with the machine and I didn’t realize it until I began to feel twinges of pain a day later.
And I ignored it.
I literally thought it was a surface scratch until two days ago when I climbed out of the bed, put pressure on the foot and winced. It only got worse and so by Thanksgiving morning, I had a gangsta limp but kept it from my husband so we could get through the day and all the company we were expecting.
Yesterday though? Chile listen. I was over talking the funk and asked him to take a look.
He was horrified at what he found and gave me that look while he collected all the things he would need to clean and add neosporin. He fussed at me while I was gritting my teeth, especially when the cleaning agent hit the wound, but I kept my mouth shut.
Once he got it cleaned, I stepped down and my foot felt so much better, I hugged him with pure gratitude.
I thought that was the end of it but this morning, he brought out his “doctor kit”again and proceeded to clean and dress the wound after I bathed without my asking.
It touched my soul watching him gently slide my sock on and then looking up to ask if I was okay..
These are the things that matter long term in a relationship- not the car we drive, the house we live in or even how many degrees we do or don’t have. Common decency that transcends what people sees every day really matters in ways we don’t always fully appreciate until we need it.
My husband can take my last nerve and pluck it for miles some days but guess what? I still wouldn’t trade him for all the tea in china.
Dueces and mad love ❤️