some stories are so funny; we laugh until we cry and some stories are so sad we cry before we finish, but all stories need to be told...

Thursday, March 17, 2011

the ped egg

if i had a HUGE family sized bag of utz potato chips, purchased in a weak moment, which i then realized, coming out of my fat/salt coma that i needed to rid myself of immediately i would not call in one small black ant to finish the job.

obviously and eventually the bag of chips would be gone- but not in my lifetime.

a predicament of epic proportion cannot be solved with teeny. or dull. 

thus my ped egg dilemma.

as i live in brooklyn, ny, and as i do not possess a car, and as i need things like food and, well mostly food and library books, i do a LOT of walking. my feet are a mess.

and as i am one of "those people" ( a/k/a a judgmental asshole) and as i sometimes treat myself to a subway ride instead of walking say, 50 blocks, and as subway rides can be boring if you've forgotten your library book, i partake in the obvious; i judge people for all the things i am sure they are judging me (that is the "m.o." of the judgmental asshole- "go forth and judge before being judged").  in spring i become completely grossed out by disgusting feet in sandals; cracked heels, giant calluses and those cloudy nails (that look oddly similar to yellow jingle shells). and as any judgmental asshole can attest, we judge ourselves the hardest; i have now added an obsessive compulsive foot care regimen to my chock-full humanly impossible to achieve it all- obsessive compulsive day.

enter the ped egg.

every night after doing the netty pot, flossing with tea tree oil, brushing my teeth and slathering my face with lotion that makes me look eerily similar to a jester- i close the lid of the toilet, spread out a bath mat and get to work. hours and strokes later i finish my right foot and wearily move onto the left. the ped egg is one of those phenomenons- like a bad accident- it's super gross and you don't want to look and yet somehow you are fascinated and cannot help yourself. as i stroke stroke stroke away (i like to sing one of those slave rowing songs from the roman galley ship days) i am fascinated by the amount of foot snow that doesn't stayed contained in the egg shell. when i am finished i am disappointed and left to wonder- who's foot snow is that and if mine, why don't my feet look fantastic?

a little off the point, but something i must add- i want to know; who invented the ped egg? because in the off chance it is someone i know i want to make sure that if i ever go to their house for supper i don't eat anything prepared with a cheese grater as part of the process. it is OBVIOUS that the ped egg inventor (a man) was laid off from his executive position. one day, while sitting in his lazy boy- tuckered out from sending resumes all morning, he took off his socks and noticed the horror of his feet. realizing that he would not be able to apply to the foot model position listed on craigslist that morning, unless he did something immediately, he started to brain storm.  he went to the kitchen for a budweiser and decided to have nachos too. he got out the chips- he scraped the thin layer of mold off of the salsa he retrieved from the far reaches of his fridge, he got out the cheddar and he found the cheese grater. he began his preparation. after his 5th stroke of cracker barrel sharp cheddar on said grater a large chunk broke and fell to the floor. as he leaned over to pick up the chunk that hit the linoleum and landed near his left big toe, he suddenly and without warning had an idea (isn't that how all great inventions are born?)

excitedly and trepidatiously, he took the cheese grater a paper towel and the budweiser back to his lazy boy. he got to work- slowly at first- then fascinated by his own foot snow- he went wild. realizing women would LOVE this but also realizing women don't love messes he was perplexed; "how can i contain the snow?". momentarily disappointed but wildly determined he went back the fridge for another budweiser and a hard boiled egg. back to the lazy boy. he gently rolled the egg on his snack table- and peeled the egg in one perfected motion. back to the foot. back to the grater. wanting to clean up some of the foot snow- and save it for a good measure he inventoried  the snack table- empty bud can, toe nail clippers, foot lotion, (remember the foot modeling gig?), nail file, egg shell.

he carefully folded the paper towel and shook the snow into the egg shell. voila the ped egg was born.

a few days later he landed the foot modeling position. at a celebration dinner that night, he made nachos for his friends and family, quietly pleased with himself, knowing that soon he would be able to financially support all of his loved ones once the patent on his invention was approved.

back to me.
back to my feet- or the horrors thereof.
the teeny cheese grater is about as effective as the wee black ant attempting to eat a family-sized bag of utz potato chips.
that being said
from all the rubbing and stroking and ped egg effort my arms look fantastic- my biceps and triceps haven't been this tone in years.

so, thank you and happy st. paddy's day ped egg inventor man.


  1. I love that name "foot snow" I always called it "foot ashes" - foot snow is SO much better!

  2. Hi there! I googled the name of my high school today- East Forsyth- and stumbled upon their Wikipedia page. At the bottom of their page, they list notable alumni. According to that page, one of my fellow East Forsyth High School gradutes invented the ped egg (Liza Kessler). So then I googled- 'who really invented the ped egg?' and your page came up. :) So perhaps Liza Kessler did invent this ped egg, but perhaps it was some man with a cheese grater.