I, a grown woman on the edge of 39 years old, am a picker.
No, not an “exploited migrant worker” kind of picker. Not an “American Pickers” kind of picker. And certainly not an “I come from a family whose surname is Picker” kind of picker.
Nope. The other kind of picker.
The gross kind.
I think you know what I’m talking about. To salvage my last shred of self-esteem, I have to believe that EVERYONE knows what I’m talking about. Still. Just in case you don’t know what I’m talking about, let me enlighten you.
Here is a short list of things that I scratch, peel, and most importantly, pick at:
- my scalp
- my cuticles
- dry skin
- fingernail polish
- chapped lips
And before you tell me how disgusting this is, I can assure you that I ALREADY KNOW. Believe me, I know. But it’s a nervous habit and one that is very difficult to break. And I’m not sure I ever will break it. It may not be humanly possible.
So why am I telling you this?
I’m telling you this because I am currently trying out this product:
Before we go any further, I have to stipulate that this post is in no way an advertisement or an endorsement of the Baby Foot product. (I couldn’t in good faith recommend it even if I wanted to because I’m not done using it yet. According to the instructions, it takes 7 to 10 days to complete and I’m only about 4 days in. So I have neither a bad review nor a good review to give.)
Okay, now that that’s out of the way, let’s move on. We were talking about picking, remember?
Right. So what this product is, essentially, is a foot peel. It’s a pair of booties full of acid that you wear on your feet for an hour, and then over the course of 7 to 10 days the acid allegedly “exfoliates” (read: “burns off”) all of the gross dead skin from your feet.
This concept appeals to me, as I’m sure it appeals to many middle-aged women, because as we ladies get older OUR FEET BECOME NASTY AS SHIT. Like, nasty. Hard and crusty and calloused and ashy and no thank you. If you’re lucky you *might* dodge the additional bullets of bunions, corns, and/or plantar warts. But almost no mid-life ladies at all escape the curse of General Foot Grossness.
So when my girl N told me about the Baby Foot things I went immediately to Amazon and was all *click* *buy* *done*. I put on the booties this past Thursday and while they seem to be gradually doing their job, I nonetheless have a problem with the after-care instructions, which tell me:
You’re not supposed to pick the dead skin off of your feet.
WHAT?! Yes, you heard me right. The product recommends you just let the dead skin peel away and fall off naturally. This may not sound like such a big deal in theory, but seriously? LOOK AT WHAT THESE BABY FOOT THINGS ARE SUPPOSED TO DO:
Look at that shit. LOOK AT IT. Please tell me how I am supposed to go 7 to 10 days with cracked, disgusting, and peeling feet and not pick at them. HOW? It will be completely impossible. An impossible quest. And now I have songs from Man of La Mancha stuck in my head.
But in all seriousness. If I can actually manage to do this thing, it will perchance be the greatest thing I’ve ever done. The most monumental task I’ve ever accomplished. The defining point of my life. Dare we even say… the pinnacle?
Yes. The pinnacle.
Thinking about it now, I’ll probably have to add it to my CV. And eventually my autobiography. When they do the TV movie of my life, they’ll spend an inordinate time on my struggle to not pick at my *hork*-looking feet. There may even be statues erected in my honor, sculptures lovingly crafted and bestowed upon places of business and universities, and oil paintings donated to museums all over the world. All shall love me and appreciate the monument of what I have achieved.