My family has small feet-- my father, my mother, and me-- the kind that gets stepped on. The kind that can fit into kids sizes, the kind that can get shoes for half price.
My sister is another story. They are like two mountains; rugged and risky. Stomping through storms, running through rain, and tumbling through tasks of hard work. My sister’s feet smell like cottage cheese. Always can smell them from miles away. Stinky socks too! Always end up in my dirty laundry pile.
Her feet are lazy. They are never able to follow the rules. Dirty and disgusting; toenails are long, too long. They are strong and sturdy. Too big, too smelly, and too distinct.