Cal Would Approve

This time last week, we were readying ourselves for a trip to see my brother and his wife, DTS. We certainly had spectacular weather for the visit and it was beyond great fun. I surprised myself on the drive home Sunday (accomplished without any parking in Waterbury) by making such excellent time that my wife wondered if I had a lead foot.

Strictly speaking, no, I did not. What I did have were exceptionally crispy feet having failed miserably on the ‘make sure you slather your feet in sunscreen’ test. I didn’t even cover them in sand and never realized they were growing pink until they were glowing red.

Don’t cry for me, Argentina, I brought it on myself and paid the price for solar enjoyment. Besides we have all the ointments and creams you can imagine, with aloe vera, lidocaine and heavens knows what else while gobbling Tylenol (which I think is the critical part of all this). 

By Tuesday around the noon hour, I could actually put my big boy shoes back on and walk with hardly any wincing which thrilled my bosses as they have hired an adult, or what they believe to be one. And between us, I wince at work just being there (so do they, I suspect), so nothing new.

I came up with my own cheat when I popped out of bed on Monday morning having not walked on admittedly tender tootsies since the night before. Sort of a Hint from Heloise moment, or at least my homage to one of hers. I placed my (clean) socks in our freezer for about ten minutes and then put them on. The relief, though temporary, was most welcome; trust me on that one.

Six days after here comes the sun. 

All innovation has glitches and this one is no exception. My first attempt at the Big Chill, still somewhat asleep but ambulatory was to put my underpants in the freezer and the socks in the bathroom for my after-work-out shower.

I realized my mistake stepping out of the shower when my feet were still extremely hot and another body part, or two, was not so much. I may have inadvertently discovered how some of the boy bands hit those really high notes, and why none of them have fathered children. 

-bill kenny