My sister hates her feet. She looks down and sees “fingers”, which, she says, “grow exponentially” every year. At half inch per year (she swears they grow that much) her toes will be four inches long by the time she is 84. That’s her fear anyway.

My sister thinks feet are the ugliest of all body parts. She asks me, if we have fingers on our hands, why do we need fingers on our feet? They looks gross, she says. I say it’s better than seeing hoofs down there, no?

I don’t have long toes; I have Banquet’s Brown N Serve sausage links that have been too long in the microwave. They are so dry and shriveled-up. I often worry if there is any blood in them. Any blood at all. But back to my sister’s “fingers.” My sister claims that her middle toe extends beyond her big toe, lengthwise. In other words, it is the leader of the pack. According to her, it is one l-o-n-g toe! She is both embarrassed and repulsed by it. She hates the freakin’ thing. Her own toe! It causes problems, she moans.

For example, my sister often has to buy a larger shoe size to accommodate her aberrant phalange. I wasn’t born with a honkin’ long middle toe–just a big nose. A really, really big nose. But more on that later.

You will never find my sister wearing flip-flops or sandals. She insists that the older one gets, the feet get wider, to the point your own bare feet feel like flip flops. Mine haven’t reached that stage yet. Feet that are already flip-flops? Should I be worried about my sister?

My sister not only hates her own tootsies; she hates other folks tootsies! Even babies cute little feet! Hmm. Did her two children grow up never hearing “This little piggy went to market”? THAT can mess up a kid!

I don’t hate my toes, even though they are ugly, too. I feel sorry for them. My pinkie toe never cries wee wee all the way home, because, trust me, it has no wee wee in it! It is dead. D-e-a-d.

My unwanted body part is my nose. Unlike my sister who can at least hide her “fingers” in shoes, I cannot hide my nose. It sits on my face, subject to stares, jokes, whatever. Next to my boobs, it is my largest body part–which is way more concerning than a long toe!

I once considered a nose job, until I heard the term for the procedure: rhinoplasty. Rhinoplasty? Have you ever seen a rhino? The whole animal is a nose. Someone might have large ears, but they don’t call it elephantplasty. I’d be mortified to tell friends I’m having rhinoplasty.

Of all the things on the face, the nose is the least appreciated. One can have beautiful eyes, beautiful lips, a beautiful smile, but when is the last time someone said, “You have a terrific nose”?

And the nose suffers other abuses. It is called a snout or proboscis, terrible, terrible-sounding terms. And then there is the gross term, “nostrils.” Every time I hear that term, I visualize a horse–which, I guess, is better than a rhino.

Bottom line: I rather have my sister’s problem, but I am NOT going toe-to-toe with her over it. And if she doesn’t like it, she can let her “fingers” do the walking.

Jean Mlincek is a freelance writer who resides in St. Petersburg, FL.