Happy Feet

These are my feet.  They are happy.

My amazing husband, unbeknowst to me, (uh, why is unbeknown a word and unbeknowst isn't?) scheduled a pedicure for me on Friday after school.  Of course he told me on Wednesday that he had a surprise for me.  When you say the word "surprise" in any sentence concerning me, it is not always the best idea.  I am like a 3 year old.  "Does the surprise include ice cream?"  "Does the surprise include other people?"  "When are you going to tell me what the surprise is?"  "If I keep asking you questions, will you tell me sooner?"  "Is it new sheets?"  (Side note: our sheets were on our bed when we arrived here and they feel like sleeping on sand paper).  "Are the new sheets blue?"  "Are the new sheets yellow?"  "Are the new sheets magenta and hot orange?"  "Is the surprise a vacuum?"  "Are you getting me a vacuum?!?"  "Is the vacuum hidden in our apartment right now?"

Then I started looking for the vacuum....to keep this blog post as short as possible, let's fast forward to 6:30 am on Friday.  My eyelids opened.  I turned my alarm off.  I shook my amazing husband until he was awake and asked, "what is the surprise?  It is Friday so you can tell me now!"  I think he reaction was to chuckle and most likely the word cute was in the sentence coming from his groggy morning voice.  My amazing husband tells me I am cute between  4 and 100 times a day.

End of story: my feet are pedicured now and they are happy.  Please do not tell them that they will start running again soon.  Right now they think they are vacation forever.  Sorry feet.  My figure and sanity will thank you though