By Lisa Scottoline
As far as I’m concerned, there are three seasons: spring, summer, fall, and cracked feet.
Read on, unless you nauseate easily.
Because I’m trying to understand what happens to my feet in winter time.
I simply don’t recognize them anymore.
I’m not sure they’re even human.
My toes look like blocks, and on the bottom, the edges are sharp.
I could cut Gruyère with my toes.
Plus there’s a white rim around the edges of both feet.
Cracks form like tectonic plates on my heels.
Flakes of skin come off if I scratch my soles.
Did you just throw up?
I did, and it landed on my feet.
And improved them.
The fun begins when the cracks start bleeding. Sometimes it hurts to walk. I mean, it’s not torture, but I have a low pain threshold.
Then I have to put Neosporin on the cracks and cover them with Band-aids, so my feet look like busted tires in a cartoon.
And no shoes help.
If I wear clogs, I can’t tell the difference between the wooden base and my feet.
I could walk across fiery coals and not feel a thing.
By the way, that’s the perfect description of my second marriage.
To return to point, I know women aren’t supposed to loathe their bodies, and generally I don’t, but my feet deserve it.
In fact, they’re getting off easy.
I think you should loathe them, too.
And now, maybe you do.
Most of you might read this and say, Obviously Lisa, you need to moisturize your feet.
To which I would reply, Honey, there is no amount of moisture that would make my feet human again.
I’ve tried Vaseline, Gold Bond, Cetaphil, and every other product on the market. I slather them on my feet at night, and the next morning, my feet are exactly the same.
They suck up all the moisture.
They’re thirsty and they drink like crazy.
Basically, I think all those products work the same way, which is that they cover your feet and seal its moisture in.
But what if there’s no moisture to seal in?
Honestly, it’s like the Sahara down there.
I’m dry as dust.
And it’s not because I’m getting older. I’ve had this my whole entire life.
And don’t get me started on my legs.
There are alligators with better skin.
But even so, my legs aren’t as dry as my feet. You know it’s bad when people try to help. At Christmas, Daughter Francesca gave me a special kind of balm that you put on your feet at night with little red gel socks.
I slept in those for a week.
You know what got moisturized?
The socks.
I have the moistest socks in the tri-state area.
Also my sheets, because I get sick of wearing socks to bed.
My sheets are a Slip ‘N Slide.
And when you sleep with dogs, the dogs try to lick moisturizer off your feet.
Apparently Cetaphil is tasty.
It’s an appetizer to Gold Bond.
Sometimes I let the dogs lick my toes.
It’s the only action in my bedroom.
And you know what, I’m not complaining.
And as far as my feet go, I’m waiting ‘til spring.
Copyright © Lisa Scottoline 2025