This is hardly an intimate or in-depth post. Qute frankly, I'm here not to talk about some traumatic childhood experience, or my sex vacuum. No blog post about my anguish or angsts, sorry.

Nope. I am here to talk about...my feet. This was inspired by another friend's blog post.

You see my friends, I've a confession to make: I'm syndactyly. Yes, like ducks and and frogs and kangaroos...I have webbed toes. Apparently, like my rare blood type, syndactyly runs in my family. I have it, as did my mum...and other female members of her family had it as well, from what mum had once told me.

Every year, only 2,000 to 2,500 babies are born this way. We're one of the more common forms though--just the second and thrid toes are joined together. While this makes it uncomfortable for me to wear sandals, the upside is, that people with syndactyly never get athlete's foot in those toes affected, for some reason.

Some people may be self-conconcious about it, but truthfully, other than it annoying me when I wear flip-flops, I've never given much thought to it, and certainly would never bother with surgery, just to wear some cheezy shoes in summer time.

While webbed toes can be caused by a vareity of illnesses--at one time, back in the 1980's, a doctor I was seeing was asking me about something called Bardet-something syndrome..but apparently I'm fine. Most commonly though, it's purely a genetic anomoly. That's me. An anomoly...well, who wants to be "normal," anyway...dullsville.

Famous people with syndactyly: Dan Ackroyd and Joseph Stalin.