Yesterday, I was sitting with PJ, sipping coffee and watching the news. It would’ve been quite pleasant if I didn’t see a large, grey object gyrating repetitively from the corner of my eye.

Without looking straight at it, I knew what it was, for I’ve been tortured by it for the past 20 years.

The very night before was probably the 7,300th (365 x 20 = 7,300) time I desperately exclaimed that it needed to stop.

I’m taking about PJ’s foot.

The man hasn’t stopped shaking his foot from the moment we began dating in 2002.

I don’t know how he does it. He doesn’t even know he’s doing it half the time. I swear he has teeny, tiny, little motors in both his ankles that run constantly. I don’t know how his musculature doesn’t make his legs look like gigantic tree trunks.

I know God loves me, but I’m also convinced He’s a huge prankster.

He put my childhood BFF, Christine, in my life, and guess what… she was a leg-shaker. Then, to up the ante on the joke, He sent me PJ.

At least Christine would go home and I’d get some peace. Now I live with the torture.

If I’m not sitting next to him and have to put my hand on his knee to make him stop, I have to ask, “Can you please stop shaking your foot?” because I’m trying to concentrate on a show we’re watching.

I’m not always polite, sometimes I can’t take it anymore and yell at him. Then I feel bad.

It doesn’t matter though because he starts up again 30 seconds later. Then I have to make a pillow fort to block my view of his foot that flays about as if independent from his body.

Yesterday, as I sat there trying and failing to ignore it, I got so aggravated that I needed someone else to share in my fury.

I knew that somewhere out in Facebookland, another person could sympathize with me because they have someone in their life that does the same infuriating thing.

So I posted a 10-second video of PJ’s grey-socked foot shake, shake, shaking like a Polaroid picture with this caption:

“I’ve been with this man for 20 years and he’s never stopped shaking his foot.

Paraphrasing here because I’m not sure if a link on FB can get me kicked off again:

*I am going to lose it one day and extract the foot from his leg, and place it where the sun does not shine* (you can probably imagine what I really said.)

I swear his ankle muscles must be stronger than the bionic woman’s. I am an angel for putting up with this for so long 😇”

Of course people began chiming in with their own tales of exasperation regarding the shaky-Sallys in their life, and then – boom – I got shut down by the Facebook police.

I want to know who’s in charge of this.

Do they truly believe that if I planned on severing my husband’s foot and inserting into his anal cavity, I would announce my intentions on social media?

Geeeezzzzz Facebook needs to learn how to take a joke 🙄

I can honestly say now that I know how frustrated the anti-vaxxers feel when they spread false information.

Imagine earnestly thinking that your post is going to save all us sheep from THE JAB 🙀 and it gets taken down! To add insult to injury, they block you!

Like them, I was fully prepared to continue my important quest of letting the foot & leg shakers know they need to stop!

Ehhh … fuck it. It’s futile anyway.

Just like PJ, they’re never going to stop no matter what we say or do. Just remember you’re not alone.

When that person in your life is violently vibrating their foot and you feel like you’re at your wit’s end, I encourage you to reach out to me and express your exasperation.

Just don’t do it on Facebook.