Dad’s flat feet

As a kid, I was always amazed at my dad’s feet, of all things. They were flat as a board, without a hint of an arch. I used to call them sleds. I think my dad preferred the more poetic term, “fallen arches” but that always made me think of a building falling apart.

Anyways, as far as I know, Dad always had flat feet. He had to wear special inserts in his shoes. Unfortunately, he always had jobs where he stood on his feet a lot, which can lead to more discomfort than normal in people with flat feet. Still, he loved to walk, and walk fast, so his impediment didn’t seem to bother him much.

I inherited my dad’s long feet, but not his fallen arches. As a small child, I loved having my feet massaged. My mom would rub baby oil on my feet while she massaged my toes and I would squeal with delight. It’s one of those places in childhood you wouldn’t mind returning to on a stressful day.


Filed under Memories

2 responses to “Dad’s flat feet

  1. Pingback: Dad ruins Mom’s first Mother’s Day | The Memories Project

  2. Pingback: Dad dodges the draft | The Memories Project

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