Toasty Toes

I anxiously wait at the top of the apartment complex staircase.  Glancing down at my bare feet, my string tattered home-made-from-an-old-pair-of-jeans shorts, and my cousin's too-large t-shirt.  I shrugged at myself and turned my gaze back towards the sidewalk.

It wouldn't be long now before it would be Toasty Toes time.  My foot began to tap in that OCD manner which I was usually oblivious too unless someone pointed it out to me, usually in a firm WILL YOU STOP THAT tone of voice.

The sound of car after car pulled into the parking lot as the dad's of different families in the complex returned home after a long day at work in the chemical plants. Each time my heart beat would quicken as I strained to see down the sidewalk that turned the corner at the far end of the courtyard. Disappointment filled me as each burly figure turned the corner and I realized it wasn't the right person.

Oh, WHEN would he be home? My impatience was nearly driving me insane, if an 8 year old girl could go insane that is. Toasty Toes was OUR special time.  It belonged to none but us. Oh, some had joined us on occasion and others had even crinkled their noses at the mention of it, but not us.  It was a ritual; a bonding of sorts.  I knew without a doubt that for those few minutes our Toasty Toes time would be special.  We would laugh, talk and share silly jokes that usually no one else understood, but it didn't matter to me.  As I said, it was Toasty Toes time.

Just when I thought I would explode from anticipation I caught a glimpse of the one I was waiting for walking around the corner.  It was Uncle Bill! He glanced up, caught my eye and gave a quick smile.  You would think that I would jump up and run down the stairs to go greet him like in some sort of movie but nahhh that was for those foo-foo, girly types.  I wasn't foo-foo, dainty, or even girly.  Unfortunately, I was tall, skinny, and very clumsy.  Running down the stairs to greet him would most likely have ended in some sort of bloody mess aka me at the bottom of the stairs. So, instead, I waited excitedly at the top of the stairs for Uncle Bill to make the climb.

As he reached the top stair, Uncle Bill stopped looked at me and gave me a funny face.  A quick wink and he disappeared into the apartment. Like a lightening bolt I raced through the door behind him.  Depending on the day and what report Aunt Linda had to give him regarding my two cousins' behavior I often felt as if time had been stopped by some master clock ruler.  My mind wandered into the possibility that somewhere perched upon a high mountain was some evil little guy torturing me by controlling the hands of time.  He was visibly laughing at the agony he caused me knowing that because of his small size the only real power he had in his pitiful life was slowing, even freezing time for anxious little girls like myself.

To be continued...........