They have chipped red nail polish on them. My bad. I’ll put that on my to do-list for this week.
They try and try and try to help those feet stay close together when that body jumps. But those feet, well, they just want to be apart and gallop around one after the other.
They are still little and cute enough to kiss. I should probably worry about where they have been. I don’t. Much.
They look like they might be Richardson toes. Her Great Papa (if he were still around) might have told her that they were funny looking because he had to wear shoes that were far too small for his feet. Because everyone knows that’s how genetics work, right?
They have outgrown their first pair of ballet slippers. Ballet class starts again very soon. Time to grab the next size up. *sniff.
They are usually one of the best sounds I hear all day (padding down the hallway…) unless of course it’s past 9:00 p.m. – then the opposite applies.
I love you, little toes. Don’t grow up too quickly, okay?