Dirty feet have found a place in my heart

There was a time when I found dirty little feet atrocious.  

Dirty feet used to mean I didn't take the time to bathe my child or I was delinquent in getting shoes on them before they escaped the house.  

These soiled feet meant that I must be so disorganized that I can't keep them in a scheduled routine for good hygiene.

Icky feet make the sheets sooty and they add to the unswept floors.  Or maybe the unswept floors add to the unsightly feet?

But then I read a fantastically crunchy post about how beneficial it is for your body to let your feet be in contact with the earth a little each day.  It said it was healthy!

And for only a moment I questioned it.  Why? 

I looked at my little barefoot twins gleeful faces race-crawling under the trampoline in search of roly-polies and any other critters for their little sisters.  

I looked at the little barefoot girls squatting in the dirt under the clothesline carefully searching for ladybugs.  

I saw Hammy also sans shoes playing in a jungle of tall weeds underneath the pomegranate tree and Bun beckoning him to join him from high up in the branches of the avocado tree. 

And I decided dirty feet were a sign of a well-lived childhood.