I've Gotta Hand It to You

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This quiz popped up on Facebook the other day...how your finger lengths indicate your personality.

Taking a flattering picture of your own hand is like folding a piece of
paper in half more than seven times or licking your own elbow. (It can't be done.)

I’m a “C:  Peacenik.”  The article told me I was organized and conflict-averse -- both true. But what I really walked away with was the knowledge that not all hands are created equal. Here I’ve walked the Earth now for 41 years and I’m just now learning that everyone’s hands are not, more or less, made the same.

Several years ago, I was getting a pedicure when I received a surprise compliment from my technician. 

     “Yuh fee ah velly plutty.” (Translation:  Your feet are very pretty.) 

Surprised and embarrassed, I offered a quick word of gratitude and went back to my magazine. The compliment fell somewhere on the creepy scale with “1” being “you sure have pretty eyes” and 10 being “you sure have a pretty mouth.” I admit, I checked my feet out post-pedi and thought they did look nice and pondered some of the podiatric atrocities they probably see on a daily basis. 

You know one of the creepiest foot things to me is a man’s second toe. Boy feet, in general, are just yucko. How any woman can have a foot fetish is beyond me. They’re smelly, furry, and that second toe just has a mind of its own. If it’s not contorted and wavy, it’s stick straight and, often, it extends way beyond the big toe. Maybe that toe is like old mens' noses and ears, how they never stop growing. Gag.

Hands, though, I always thought were by and large the same. Unless you’ve been in a shop class accident, you probably have four fingers and a thumb. 

The thumb will get you car rides (if you’re into hopping in cars with shifty strangers). 

The pointer shows direction or intent, gives credit, and explores. 

The middle finger, I feel sorry for. He’s the tallest one, commanding respect with just his size, but he’s relegated to naughty gestures and occasionally removing something from the corner of his owner’s eye. 

The aptly named ring finger indicates its owners availability and marital status. 

And then there’s the pinkie...like the youngest sibling, it’s a little wild, does its own thing, picks its nose and doesn’t care who’s looking, and lives on the periphery while trying to maintain familial ties. It’s true shining moment, though, is during High Tea. Pinkie can class it up when the situation calls for such a thing.