Footloose

Have you ever noticed that the older you get the more likely you are to be involved in a conversation that involves foot problems, irregularity or hair removal? It seems as if every time I turn around these days, someone brings up his foot problems. I stumbled into a conversation this morning where a co-worker was talking about sanding down her calluses. I’ve even caught myself talking about it lately. I have tendonitis in my heels which flairs up when I run on an incline too much. When I was a kid I used to laugh at my grandma’s bunion. Thank goodness, she refrained from slapping me up the side of my head, but I honestly found it funny then. Even the word “bunion” was funny. At ten years old a misshapen foot is worth a good round of giggles. At 42, it’s not so funny. What IS funny is our apparent belief that it’s okay to share intimate details of calluses, corns and ingrown nails with a room full of people. I can’t believe I’m a member of the “old feet” club. Can conversation about laxatives be far behind?