"Hey wait a minute," he said. "Grace! My feet. They look dainty."
"Let me take a look," said Grace. She clasped on foot under her arm and tickled it.
James laughed and wriggled. His feet were very ticklish. "No, really. Look at them."
"They look ok to me, James. Do they hurt?"
He rotated them, He took a couple of steps. H jumped up and down. "No. They don't hurt. In fact, they feel better than they have in years. You know that sore spot by my big toe? It feels good. But look at them. They're smaller!"
Grace took another look. "No, they're not. You're drunk. Your feet are fine."
James sait on a chair and stared intently at his feet. "I am drunk," he admitted. "But I swear my feet are different." He jumped up and ran to the bedroom.
"What are you doing?"
"Remember those shoes you wanted me to wear for the anchorwoman game?" But my feet were too big for them?" he came from the depths of the closet. "Aha!"
He came prancing out into the living room in Grace's high heels. " Look at that. A perfect fit! Proof positive! How wet I'll be, if I don't find the bathroom key," he sang.
Grace and James laughed. They collapsed on the couch, laughing together.