During my lunch hour I like to read through the archives of blogs like they are a chapter book, my most recent catch-up being with Alice Bradley's Finslippy. Today I came across a post she wrote a year ago and was floored. Mainly because I had just lived her story no more than two nights ago with Clif (minus the tweezing part)...
When I shave I do it hip to, and including, toe. There, I've said it. Whew! That feels so much better! Thing is until right this very moment I've lived in shame of the fact that my lower extremity shaving rituals include my feet. Why I have felt this way I'm not entirely sure, though I suspect it might have something to do with a girl once looking at me in shock and horror asking me if and why I would do such a thing. I immediately stuttered a red-faced denial and forever more steered clear of the topic (luckily it doesn't come up very often so I can be lax in my diligence), vowing never to admit my dark secret.
But here's the thing: why on earth is shaving ones toes such an astounding concept? Is Frodobia a thing?
Reading the comments on Alice's blog not only made me feel more comfortable about my own Hobbit feet, but showed me how many people I share that boat of shame with. Stand, we, united in our desire to rid excess body hair, no matter how negligible!
I also adore the smell of Windex.
What about your dark little secrets?