Toes are interesting things.  Please note I did not say attractive, I said interesting. 

Wee babies suck on their toes, and adults love to kiss the toes of a sweet scented little one.  As we become older toes become items of disgust, with hair, stinky odors and ugly nails with fuzz and gunk stuck under them.  Women paint their nails in order to to make their feet more attractive, and old men wear socks to cover them while wearing sandals and shorts. 

Songs are sung about toes such as, "This Little Piggy."  Famous stories have famous lines about toes, case in point, The Hobbit with this line, "May the hair on your toes never fall out."  Shel Silverstein has written several poems with the word toes, Ridiculous Rose being one.  The word toes rhymes so well with so many words after all. 

Toes are useful in reaching for things you don't feel like bending over to pick up, pointing out an item on the floor to your child or pet, adding things up when you run out of fingers, and keeping our balance.  Still, without toes you can do all of these things, you just have to learn to compensate. 

My Papafather lost several of his toes when he was a teenager.  While working on his father's farm he got his foot stuck in an auger.  When he pulled his leg free the boot was still in the auger and he thought he had lost his entire foot.  The nearest hospital was about an hour's drive away, but when they reached the hospital there was only a couple of spots of blood in the car.  That dull auger had pinched off the blood vessels. 

While recouperating, a visitor stopped by and told my grandparents that Papafather would never walk again because toes are what help you stay balanced and walk.  My Papafather was so mad he set out to prove that man wrong!  He played football in high school, and he was a star player.  He had learned to compensate for his toes.  You can't run down the field to make a touch down, weaving in and out of opponents if you can't keep your balance. 

A few days ago I was leaping out of the shower and I brutally knocked out This Little Piggy had None, on the edge of the shower door.  I danced around the bathroom moaning and groaning.  I had my toes clutched in my hand and I was afraid to let go to see the damage.  Finally I reasoned with myself that the pain is usually worse than the damage and I took a peek.  I had bent the nail back, completely in half, the toe was purple, but had minimal bleeding. 

I had to take the girls to a class in town so I didn't have time to sit around and throw a pity party.  I stuffed my foot into a boot and hobbled about town.  The pain was great, and my foot was nearly aflame from the heat of that swollen digit.  I had never given much thought to that particular toe, but it sure does play a big part in the way I walk.  Every step I took I could feel that toe pressing down and gripping the floor of my boot.  For all the work that small toe does, it deserves a lot more than none. 

When Dear Man got home and I showed it off to him he said, "Wow!  That's a pretty purple."  When a man is impressed by the hue of your bruise, you know it has won their admiration.

Toes are amazing, without them we would stump about.  That doesn't make for romantic movie endings.  Watching a happily reunitd couple stump down the beach would kind of ruin the poignancy of it.  Toes give us graceful movements. 

 Who knew we should thank God for toes!