Foot of love

When Mark and I were newlyweds, we lived in this tiny little cinder block house in Mapleton, Utah. It was so tiny...so very tiny, but we loved it because it wasn't attached to anyone else's home. And we lived in a normal family ward. Granted, were far and away the poorest people in the ward. I imagine when the Bishopric and Auxillary leaders met for welfare meeting once a month, we were the only item on the agenda. "The Huffords are going to need another visit from the 'secret grocery elf' pretty soon"
Anyway, one day I came home from my classes at the 'Y' and fell asleep on the "sofa". Actually, we didn't have room for a sofa, so it was a very very small love seat. You can imagine it wasn't a place you could stretch out and get comfortable. I was sleeping with my head contorted on one end and my feet shooting up in an unnatural angle at the other end. While I was sleeping one of my legs had fallen asleep. Mark came home. I could hear him come in, but it was one of those times where you are stuck halfway in your dream and halfway out. I was willing my eyes to open but my body wasn't responding. My foot was going crazy! The tingling was unbearable! I fought for consciousness with all I had and the only thing that came out was a soft.... "foot". Foot. Oh the romance! Just what every bride would utter to her returning husband. Foot. Thus was born the foot of love. Yesterday we were making sugar cookies -- an excellent Sunday afternoon time killer -- and Mark crafted another offering in honor of "foot". Good times.

P.S. Mark, each foot was very delicious once I got past the idea of chewing on toes. Thank you.