I found something metal embedded in the bottom of my show this morning. It looked like the tiny head of a small nail or tack. But I ended up having to use a screwdriver and pliers to pull it out. It turned out to be a long, thin, very rusty nail, about 3 inches long. Somehow, it didn’t stab my foot.
The shoes are Hoka. They come with extra thick out soles. That and the angle the nail went in kept me from having to get a tetanus shot. I’ve been lucky enough to never have stepped on anything worse than a sticker with my bare feet. But I remember when I was 4 or 5, playing outside with the neighbor kids, and one of them accidentally running onto a pile of glass. Somebody had broken a bottle on the street and left it. There was sooooo much blood. I think he had to go to the hospital. While I’m remembering kids and cuts, I had an uncle who somehow lost a finger on a broken milk bottle when he was a kid. We’re talking the old 1950s delivery style milk bottles. They were pretty thick glass, but still, here had to be some force applied to go all the way through a human finger. It was my mother’s side, a big Catholic family with 9 or 10 kids. I wouldn’t have put it past one of the older ones trying to prank or scare him and accidentally cutting it off. Older siblings can be like that. I know because I’m the oldest.
