Boy am I glad it is spring. No, not just because the of green grass, or the whole April showers-May flowers thing. I like spring because of socks. Actually the lack there of. See I donï¿½t wear emï¿½, socks. So all winter all I hear is ï¿½where are your socks? Aren't your ankles cold,ï¿½ or simply, ï¿½are you crazy, itï¿½s ten degrees out?ï¿½
However as the temperatures rise, toes sprout like tulips. Moms count piggies as babies grasp their bare little feetzies and squeal. Gentle spring-a time when toes of all shapes and sizes come out to join mine. Spring, when teens display wildly painted nails in thongs (now called flip flops so as to avoid confusion with their under wear.) Old guys, legs as white as fish wear sandals this time of year. Their 10 wrinkled pink pinkies flapping in the wind. All to enjoy the freedom, my digits have had all year.
Letï¿½s hear it for spring and the liberation of all toes. Oh, sweet foot freedom. A declaration to the emancipation all the way to the ankle. Stand united on the liberty of no socks. Enjoy my revolution, winters coming soon.