And this little one went wee wee wee all the way home.

She’s one of my favorite people.

She showed up unexpectedly in my office yesterday. It’s always good to see her because I love the conversations we have. The kind of conversations that last an hour and contain nothing. An hour filled of unconnected, tongue-n-cheek, mindless babble, but yet have a deep and profound backdrop. We feel that if a problem is viewed by twisting it into a different angle, it is through sarcasm and wit that you will surprisingly find the hidden truth. This philosophy proved true yesterday.

She plopped down onto one of my “guest” chairs and began munching on the food she had just purchased through the Wendy’s drive-thru. I call them “guest” chairs because I rarely have official meetings in my office. People usually are drawn into my office for social reasons. Friends often show up for no particular reason.

“Sooooo, why are you here? Can I help you in some way?”

“I came by to eat in front of you. Want a fry?”

The next ten minutes of our conversation was about how rude I was for having already eaten lunch. I explained to her in my ever-so-sarcastic-way that this world revolved around me and therefore she should have been there earlier. That she should have known what time I eat lunch and therefore made arrangements to meet my schedule. As she ranted about how I didn’t want any of her fries, I noticed that she kept looking at her feet.

“Why do I see my pinky toe crack on my right foot and not on any of the other toes. Or on my left foot?”

“Are you sure it’s not fat pushed together caused by squeezing your foot into that shoe?”

She was wearing cute brown high heels that had a pointed toe.

The top of the shoe was designed in a way that would cover the toe cracks of the average foot. I leaned over in my chair to get a closer look at her newly discovered pinky toe crack.

“Um, I don’t have fat feet. It’s a crack. Definitely a crack.”

“Take your shoe off.”

When she removed her stylish shoe from her self-called dainty right foot, it became obvious that it was a crack. It didn’t disappear. It didn’t spread out. It stayed the same. She slowly placed her shoe back on and we closely studied her foot as it was inserted. There it was again: the pinky toe crack. Since I’m easily amused, I began to question why her left pinky toe was crackless. Did one shoe have a default that the other didn’t? Was it the shoe… or her foot?

“Take the other one off.”

“Here, hold my coke.”

With the removal of both shoes, I was able to see a clearer picture of the toe crack issue. Both feet were presented to me for examination and she did NOT like what I had to say.

“I can see that the pinky toe crack on your right foot is longer than the one on your left.”

“No, it isn’t. They’re the same.”

“No. They’re not.”

I grabbed my trusty metal ruler, got down on my office floor and began measuring. Apparently having a metal ruler shoved in between your toes isn’t a pleasant experience. She swiped the ruler from my hand, saving herself from any more pain. She took back control and was defiant in proving me wrong in this longer-pinky-toe-crack theory that I had stirred up.

With one measurement down and one to go, she was cocky in her confidence. How dare I insinuate that one foot was abnormal. How dare I label her imperfect. How dare I make her prove to me that she was right and I was wrong.

And I was right.

Her right pinky toe was a half inch longer. Mystery solved. Case closed. Release the jury. Throw her in jail for not being perfect. She was astonished. She freaked. She was appalled that she could live 24 years without realizing this about herself. She felt flawed. Blown away. She threatened to take my shoes off and measure my own toe cracks. I told her that comparing her cracks to mine wasn’t going to make her feel any better.

So what if she has a funky toe?

Just see the toe as a symbolism that you will always discover new things about yourself. No matter your age. Own the toe and go on with your life.

Problems should be viewed by twisting them into different angles. It is through sarcasm and wit that you will surprisingly find the hidden truth.