Thanks, Dr. Obvious.
I didn’t know if I should speak out on my personal struggle with this particular malformation, but after reading this post on a similar subject, I felt it was my civic duty to enlighten the interwebs and at the same time, acknowledge my condition, so in case I become rich and famous, TMZ and E! News will not be able to use it against me.
It is also high time I take my responsibility as a newfound adult seriously and admit that I am not perfect.
In fact, I am deformed.
A month or so ago, my boyfriend was visiting, and it since was under sixty degrees outside we were able to hold hands whilst traversing around the city.
Sidenote: This may or may not be another unknown medical condition I need to research, because if the weather is above sixty-eight degrees, my hands sweat uncontrollably and I can’t lock fingers with anyone or anything. I used to nanny and when I would walk anywhere with the kids, I had to assist them through the crosswalks by grabbing the collars of their t-shirts like dogs in order to avoid an unwanted sweaty palm debacle.
But anyways, I’ll look into that another time, back to the part where the air was the perfect amount of crisp so I could link phalanges without fear of being dumped due to aggressive hand perspiration.
He picks up my hand, examines it, and then says something that smacks me in the face (metaphorically) with a big, fat dose of deformed reality.
“You have toe fingers.”
It was at that moment I realized I did not have hands fit for a ring model, rather my mitts looked like I should be wearing socks instead of gloves. I was horrified.
Exhibit A.
After he pointed out my enlarged nail beds and all encompassing fake fingers, I refused to give high fives. I didn’t want to shake any more hands. It was embarrassing. I was messed up.
Moments, maybe hours went by feeling singled out, but a side-by-side comparison of my thumb and my big toe revealed that his accusations were not in vain, they were actually true.
Twins?
Then I realized how inexplicably good I was at handstands when I was a kid and it was probably a direct result of the Meg Lago toe finger epidemic.
I also conveniently remembered how committed I was to the Toe Sock trend in the early 2000’s, which makes sense now since they are essentially gloves for your feet. I was a foot game pioneer at an early age, and no one sought to hire me for various endorsements.
Honestly, toe socks would probably still be cool if Nike or Adidas had called me when I was thirteen for a sponsorship. Let that just sink in for a second.
I just want the world to know that Toe Fingers exist, and if you have them, announce yourself to the world like me. We can start a support group, talk about all the things we wish we could do if we were only born normal.
We can wear gloves on our feet and socks on our hands, parading about like we own the world slapping soccer balls into goals and making foot fives the new craze on the streets.
Somebody get some toe gloves and hand socks, PRONTO.
I guess diversity is what makes the world turn. We all have differences, and mine just happen to be the sheer fact that I have feet hands and I’m not afraid to show it.
Half and Half 