Take a look at it folks. It huge, it’s grotesque, and it’s actually on it’s way down in that picture. My right foot has begun swelling to insane proportions in the past week or so. It’s so large, even my Crocs no longer fit. The day we went shopping, it had actually managed to swell through the holes in the top of my Crocs. How ridiculous is that? Had I stood any longer I am convinced my foot would’ve swallowed my shoe like The Blob did to so many teenagers. As adorable as this whole marshmallow foot is, I miss being able to tell I actually have an in-step. I certainly miss not having stretching pains in the skin on my foot. Most of all, however, I will miss having cute toes. Not these pathetic, wrinkley, “I’m suddenly 107 years old” toes thanks to the dramatic gain and loss of water in them, and definitely not the little Vienna sausages that have been ruling the roost as of late.

One week to go and my main reason for wanting this kid out has become the insane swelling of my feet. You know, since the whole inability to lift my legs or sleep isn’t enough.

On a side note: The Girl rocks my socks. She’s terribly sweet, and don’t you dare let her tell you otherwise.