Why Do I Have So Many Toes? (standard:humor, 905 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: Jun 19 2021	Views/Reads: 1090/706	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
I'm not sure why I have ten toes, but after this experience, I will give attention to my toes, but I'm going to give more attention to my eyes.

I must confess that I'm not always obvious to everything that is before
me. I admit I miss a lot of things set before me. I don't do this 
intentionally. 

For example, sometimes, when I come home from the church office, I pass
the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage, and she is waving at me, but I 
don't see her. 

When I get home, she confronts me about it. I know it happened because,
well, she told me it happened. I wasn't very obvious of the situation 
at the time. 

Some things I see, some things I don't see. And I'm not sure the
difference between either one. I don't know why I miss some things and 
not others. But I do, and I guess that's part of my personality. 

I know I have ten toes, five on each foot, and one on each foot is a big
toe. I have known that since I could recognize things. I will not tell 
you how long that is because my calculator doesn't go up that high. 

In the morning, when I get up, I stumble to the kitchen to get my
morning cup of coffee. Without that cup of coffee, I have no idea what 
I'm doing or where I'm going. That's the reason God gave us coffee. I 
don't plan anything before my coffee. 

Several times I have to go to the doctor to get blood work done. I have
to fast before I go, and that means no coffee. I told the nurse that 
was extracting my blood, "Are you sure you want me here before I have 
my coffee?" 

Looking at me, she smiled and said, "It's okay. Remember, I have the
needle." 

I did remember. There are times when she can extract blood without any
pain whatsoever. Then there are those other times that I will not talk 
about right now. 

Before my coffee in the morning, I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing. 

Being oblivious to things around me can catch up when I least expect it.


The other day when I got up, I think my eyes were open, but I'm not
sure. I stumbled out into the kitchen to get my morning coffee. 

On the way there, I heard a loud scream like a Comanche on the warpath
and found myself dancing, and I don't dance. After a few seconds, I 
felt a pain coming from several of my toes up to the top of my head. 

I had no idea what happened. I looked down and saw blood squirting out,
I saw several toenails splintered, and two of my toes were black and 
blue. 

Before I could end my screaming and dancing, the Gracious Mistress of
the Parsonage came into the room and asked, "What in the world did you 
do?" 

Of course, when anything happens in our house, it's always my fault. But
I wasn't in the mood at that time to debate whose fault it was. At the 
time, I didn't care whose fault it was; it was the pain in my toes that 
captured all of my attention. 

I couldn't answer her. I simply pointed down to my toes and let out
another Comanche scream. 

Somehow in walking down to the hallway, I smashed my toes into something
that resisted them completely. To this day, I don't know what in the 
world my toes ran into. They've never revealed that secret to me. 

Fortunately, the Gracious Nurse of the Parsonage was able to take care
of my toe's situation. If I can break it, she can fix it. 

Up to this point, I never paid any attention to my toes. Since that
time, every time I walk, my toes remind me of the incident. I try not 
to limp because I'm not going to give those toes any credit at all. I'm 


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