What to do. If something’s bothering you and you don’t know who to turn to for advice, think of Kirk. In our weekly advice column, Kirk Heron will address your concerns (100% anonymously).

I eat butter, straight up. It’s not like I would eat an entire stick like an apple or anything, but if I’m, say, baking something for a friend, I’ll definitely catch myself eating it by the forkful. I’m not morbidly obese or anything; I closely fit the description of the dude of “just the regular, average dude.” Am I a bad person?

Hello, Buttermouth, the good news is that you’re (hopefully) not a murderer. You see, murder is something you should really hide from people. Eating butter—while more than just a little odd—isn’t a secret worth stressing yourself out over.

I used to lick the bottom of my feet when I felt like they were dirty, which turned out to be almost all the time. I would take regular showers and scrub the soles of my feet with a pumice stone, only to get out of the shower and feel like they were still filthy. Basically, I would feel uncomfortable whenever someone was in the room because I knew that when they left, I would have a chance to lick the bottom of my feet for a while until I felt that they were clean again.

The first person to catch me in the act was my best friend. He had gone upstairs to use the washroom, and as soon as he left the room I tore off my socks and got to licking. I remember the whole thing like it happened yesterday, given that horrifying memories tend to stick with you. The look on his face when he caught me with a toe in my mouth was equal parts horror and amusement, leaning more toward the latter, because it must have been a joke, right?

Right. Well, at least that’s how I played it off. Haha! Check this out, man, I can put a toe in my mouth! But it wasn’t a joke, and somewhere in the back of my mind there was always a nagging feeling of guilt coupled with the knowledge that if I just confessed this odd proclivity to foot licking to those closest to me, I would feel weightless.

It took years of sneaking off into public washrooms, friends’ parents’ bedrooms, nearby garages, etc. before I told my best friend what was up. Despite his “what the hell are you talking about?” look, I immediately felt better, and soon after my entire school knew. I had to endure weeks, if not months, of jokes and pained looks, but eventually it moved to the back burner and we all started making fun of another guy because his mom looked like Yoda.

Buttermouth, eating butter by the forkful does not make you a “bad person,” just Norway’s greatest enemy. Yet, it is clear that you are uncomfortable with your tendency to eat large amounts of something that is usually only tasted. Instead of keeping this whole thing a secret, why not come clean to everyone you know? You may find the honesty refreshing. If that proves too much for you, just shove a forkful of butter in your mouth (makes me sick thinking about it) while your friend is watching, and when they inevitably cringe, pass it off as if it were nothing.

In the interest of full disclosure, I made that whole foot licking story up. The pumice stone should have given it away.

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