Can Loose Morals Be Far Behind?

I was born with duck feet.
Seriously.
Narrow heel + wide ball of the foot = duck feet and even as a baby, my feet have had narrow heels that widened out into a pair of tootsies that look like Daisy Duck wannabes.
Because I'm rather vertically challenged, I have worn high heels since I was old enough to sneak them out to the school bus under my coat. For most of my adult life, I had high heel everything. Heck, the only pair of shoes I had that weren't high heels were my bedroom slippers and that's just because everyone knows bunnies don't wear high heels.
So my duck feet - which were already not gorgeous - turned into duck feet with bunions.
Eeww and ick.
I've spent lots of years trying not to draw attention to my feet. If there were a witness protection program for people with ugly feet, I'd have been banging on their door.
So you can imagine that the last thing I'd ever do is sit down and paint red nail polish all over my toes. As a matter of fact, I've never painted my toes. With any color of nail polish. Ever.
Until tonight.
I figured after two surgeries and lots of armpit callouses from crutches and lugging around Frankenboot, I deserved to do something fun.
My feet will never be gorgeous, but by golly they can dress for a party!