One unmistakable trait that dad has given many of his progeny is ugly toes....specifically, the skiwampusly-angeled big-toe toenails.
As demonstrated by the photos of Anders below, the wild toenail genes are manifest at an early age and—unlike the wild olive tree—cannot be grafted into the tame toenails on the rest of the foot. Because of the family nature of this blog, I have opted against showcasing the most graphic casualties of this hereditary nightmare, but, one quick google search under "nasty ingrown toenails" will convey the horror of which I speak.
My deformed, post-surgery left toenail is an ever-painful reminder of the many wincing hours I spent during my pre-deacon years avoiding stairs, sterilizing sharp objects, and soaking my foot in epsom salt (it's tragedy enough that a ten-year-old should even have to know what epsom salt is....just me and Charles, soaking the toes, playing cards).
The upside to having one of my toes half-amputated at an impressionable age is that doctrine of the resurrection became a very meaningful principle in my life—and something to which I eagerly look forward.
Myriad posts could also be written about the sad state of LeBaron sinuses, foreheads, ankles, and moles. The point is, I wouldn't trade my gammy toe, wobbly ankles, round head, square teeth, or soggy chin for the world. Your genes done me proud dad...and I love you for'em.
Johnny
Haha. I wish I had a picture of my kids' big toes to post. Caroline got off scott free, but Bentley and Olivia could slice through the tops of their shoes with those toe nails.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I applaud the image of you and Charles, soaking the toes, playing cards.
hahaha! Although not dad's toe, Seth has a KILLER toenail that he has generously passed along to our kids - it grows not inward but outward at a lethal jutting angle. watch out.
ReplyDelete