Monk we're not

While at the gym this morning,

I kept feeling these sharp pricks on my foot,

like there was a rock or something in my shoe. 

I took my shoes and socks off several times,

and searched for a little rock or piece of glass. 

My foot was even bleeding,

but I couldn't find anything.

I was still feeling these little 

pricks when we got home. 

I had Gary look at my foot,

check inside my sock,

and then check inside my shoe.  

As I was watching him check the shoe,

I noticed something on the bottom of it. 

It blended in with the colors on the shoe,

so at first I didn't think anything of it. 

Then I looked more closely.

"Wait a minute. 

What is that on the bottom of my shoe?"

Duh!

Like I said,

Monk we're not. 

(the detective on the TV show,

not the Catholic kind)

Seriously, after this last week of

going out with a velcro curler stuck to my back,

a size tag (XL) left on a shirt,

and now a cute little heart shaped thumb tack

on bottom of my shoe,

I'm thinking I may need a personal assistant.

(Grandchildren are welcome to apply!)