A love letter to my fingers

Dear Fingers,

I don't think I give you guys enough credit. I do not show you how much I care about you and appreciate everything you do for me. You've been an ever-present companion. An friend who literally sticks closer than a brother. You have been there for me in times of uncertainty, curiosity, weakness and strength. This is just my way of showing how much you mean to me and it is but a minute rendition of how I really feel and an insufficient portrayal of your true worth.

Fingers, you have been with me since birth. From my curious infancy to my inquisitive adulthood, you have been a constant channel for many moments of uncertainty and exploration. With every moment, when my need to "know" has peaked, you have been the pioneer explorer and have consequently been a victim of my unending and insatiable curiosity. I have placed you into numerous situations which have left you burned, numb, electrocuted, pricked and sliced. For this, I am sorry. My curiosity has been your undoing on several occasions and even though I can not promise that you will no longer be victim of my need to investigate and understand the things of the world, I can promise that with every instance where I send you forth to chart unknown territory, be it the temperature of the face of a pressing iron, sharpness of a blade or possibility of current passing through a set of wires, you will have sacrificed yourself and your selflessness will never go unappreciated ever again. I am also certain my tongue and nose appreciate your sacrifice as well because we all know that if I had no fingers and I wanted to check how hot a bucket of water was, they would be the ones I'd use in your place. Imagine.

As a child, I sucked my thumb. I sucked that finger to the point where it started looking pale and shriveled like I had Joan Rivers for a finger. Finger, you spent an obscene amount of time in my mouth where you were drenched in toddler saliva and suffered relentless sucking. I did this without considering your well-being and I reaped nothing but selfish infantile satisfaction. As if this wasn't enough, I've made you pick, pull and flick in my nose, ears and mouth and you did it all without a single complaint. Like some deranged nasal-miner, I've made you pull boogers from my nose. You've picked food from between my teeth when I was too barbaric to use a toothpick and I've stuck you into my own throat to jump-start vomits. For all this and more, I am sorry. I'm sorry it took me this long to acknowledge your bravery and realize that without you, I am just a man with a nose full of boogers.

Fingers, they have been carnal and you have not judged them. I say "they" and "them" because you and I have never been involved in anything deviant, unlike these lustful hedonists. These heathens have forced you to explore, pinch, poke and prod in so many lewd places simply for sensual gratification and you have done it all with total disregard for your own moral disposition and hygiene. We both know that they fail to recognize your contribution to most of their coital activities and may never ever see you for the real maverick you are when it comes to poking and sliding. That is why I am taking it upon myself to be a proxy for their appreciation. On their behalf, I'd like to thank you for letting them use you to fulfill their lecherous desires and I hope that this letter will make more people appreciate the work you do so effortlessly and willingly.

As I come to the end of this letter, I'd like to also highlight some of the things you do that has gone unappreciated by myself and a large portion of society. Thank you for being there for us when we want to point, click, swipe, pick, twiddle, press, double-tap and so much more. They may seem like menial tasks but you do them without pride or prejudice. Please accept this letter for what it is, a acknowledgement of your importance and miniature token of my appreciation.

Fingers, you the real MVP.

Robert.