hand-massaging-footTechnically I received my very first pedicure on Sunday evening if you want to look at it that way.

Now I’m a barefoot kind of guys, always have been, always will be. That means I spend most of my time without shoes on, meaning that I’m the guy you see walking on the field barefoot or strolling around a mall without any foot gear on. Of course, despite all the freedom this affords me, it does kind of have one little drawback, much to Chantelle’s chagrin: hard, cracked heels due to exposure to hot tar, rough surfaces and the sun.

Now I really don’t mind them at all, hell I don’t even know about them for the most part, but unfortunately it turns out that this bugs the crap out of Chantelle every time she sees my feet, and because it annoys her that my unsupervised heels are forever laddering anything stitched together, she made it her personal mission to take care of my hardened fellas when I least expected it.

Which is why, after having been lulled into a nice sense of security with a much-needed haircut performed by boobies in front of me and Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker in Rush Hour 3 on the TV in the background, I suddenly found myself ushered to the bedroom and plonked down on my stomach on the bed. A comic book was shoved into my hands and the next thing I knew, Chantelle had grabbed hold of one of my feet and began brutally scrubbing it down with some sort of sandpaper torture device.

Of course, my senses completely overwhelmed by the awesomeness of said comic book in my hands, she managed to complete the first foot, from heel to toe and was happily working away at my second foot before I could even think about protesting.

Then, the next thing I knew, my feet were then unceremoniously slathered with some sort of medieval, gritty concoction, generously massaged, and then plonked down in a bucket of water to be rinsed off. More cream and before I could even think of jumping up to escape, out came the toenail clippers and scraper to deal with my unruly feet digits.

My goodness, my poor feet didn’t know what hit them and now I don’t even know if I recognise them any more. But Chantelle had fun, I enjoyed the comic book, so no harm no foul I guess! :)