My Tale of Two Shoes

Random Tidbit About Me: Week 8

I can’t stand loosing things. It makes me crazy.

And I don’t like to buy shoes. I have bigger feet, and they just don’t look as cute in the bigger sizes then the cute little size 6. So I only have a limited supply of shoes. And why would I want to spend money on shoes when I could spend it on something important. Like books. Or chocolate.

Today’s post is a re-post from my other blog’s archives.

It’s a Tale of Two (lost) Shoes.

I hope you enjoy.

It began like any other Sunday morning. I was being lazy. I knew I needed to get moving so I wouldn't be running late when it was time to go to church. But knowing I should be doing something, and actually doing it, are two separate things.

After a couple hours of laziness, I hurried to get ready. I went to put my shoes on, so I could head out the door. It was then that I noticed something was missing from my closet.

My shoes!

Well, that's not entirely true. I was missing two shoes, but they were two different shoes.

I'm not like so many women out there that have seven pairs of the same black shoes. I don't really like to buy shoes, and therefore only have a bare minimum of them. I have one pair of dress shoes, and I wear them every week to church. (I need to fix that!)

Because I had spent the morning milling around I found myself rushing to get out the door. So I wasn't happy about finding only a single church shoe.

My daughter Emily has this game, where she puts anything she can find in a cupboard, or a drawer, or anywhere "hidden". She tells me it's "baking." (Thanks to the toy kitchen set at the church nursery.) Because of her game, I've found myself searching the house many-a-times for something I was missing. It always turns up, eventually.

I spent 10 minutes going through every hiding place I could think of. I was getting more frustrated by the second. I tried asking her where she had put them, but she didn't have an answer for me. (She usually does.) By this time I was late and realized I had to give up. I went back to the closet to consider my options.

The two shoes that looked back at me didn’t match…but maybe…hmmmm… No, even if I were desperate enough to try that (which, I wasn't), they were both left shoes. I've heard of people having two left feet, but come on now!

So I resorted to wearing a pair of black boots that looked ridiculous, and hoped no one would look at my feet.

After I got home my husband helped search the house again. Nothing. Nada.

I pride myself on keeping a fairly clean and organized house, and it drives me crazy to have things go missing. I finally had to give up again, because I was so annoyed about it.

Maybe the shoes decided to divorce their matching shoe companions, and run away together? I thought.

But no, it was nothing quite so exciting and scandalous. I found them both the next day, in the bottom of the dirty clothes basket, as I did the laundry.

Turns out I have to blame my son Ryan for this one, and somehow make it up to Emily for blaming her. Ryan loves to put things in the laundry. The best part is, I probably covered the shoes up myself, when I put my towel in the basket after my shower.