This is a really weird post; be ye warned. Chris and I were sitting on the couch this evening--Chris had his feet next to me--and I noticed that his feet smelled a little. I didn't say anything because it was the end of the day, and I'm the first to recognize when my own feet smell. It's a natural thing. I just continued to sit there, but put the corner of my sweatshirt over my nose (ever so slightly).
There was no problem until he started to move his feet around as we were talking. Every time his toes touched me, I leaned away. I don't think this was very slight because he looked at me funny. So I told him that his feet smell.
Naturally, he tried to rub his feet all over me. I think he was trying to prove that they didn't smell. He also tried to convince me that if he took his socks off, the feet wouldn't smell. As if the socks were the ones making the stink, not the sweaty feet inside of them. I tried to explain this to him, but he wasn't having it.
Naturally, to prove his point, he proceeded to put the socks in his mouth. I think all that it proved was that my husband is a strange, strange creature.
And yes, he is an MD.
And yes, we have the debt to prove it.