The first thing I do when I come in the door after work is take off my shoes and socks. Bathroom, check the answering machine, and opening the refrigerator are all unimportant (even if I'm doing the peepee dance) compared to TAKING OFF THE SHOES. Socks are negotiable. Shoes are not.
That's right. I am one of those people, one of those icthyhumanoids with gills on the soles of their feet. Nostrils are the basic equipment. Foot gills are an optional upgrade.
In case you are wondering, the answer is yes. Yes, I am sitting here smirking like Wile E. Coyote when he calls himself a "suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuper geeeeeeeenius." You would be, too, if you'd just thought up the idea of "foot gills" to explain your aversion to wearing shoes! Do you know how many people turn up their noses at us barefooters, and not because of the toe jam scent, either?? Do you know how many people secretly consider themselves superior to those of us with unclad feet?? Not that I am going to change my grounded-to-the-earth-as-well-as-stray-dog-poo-piles ways! By the way, it's not that we like strange stuffs squished between our toes, it's that the freedom of going barefoot necessitates learning to live with the possibility that you'll accidentally step in icky things. No, I am not planning on changing my ways, but I would sure like to have yet another snappy comeback in my arsenal of smartassery. Foot gills, it is!
With that point to ponder, I shall leave you. I'm off to the makeshift painting studio that rests upon the air hockey table (which is not a bad thing, considering it can be turned on to increase some air flow around drying paintings). Have yourself a toe-wiggling good time this afternoon!