Shoes on my feet

Last week as I was walking into school, I must have felt something unusual as I walked.  I can only assume this is the reason that I looked down at my feet to see that I was wearing two different shoes.  Now before you jump to any wild conclusions about my lack of sanity, I must explain.  The shoes were both brown and both made by Dansko, the same shoe company.  I had the giggles that made my hike up the 35 stairs that take me from the parking lot up to the second floor and then up again to the third floor even harder than usual.  The giggles turned into downright hysterics leaving my mascara running down my cheeks.  

I vowed I would keep my mistake a secret.  That was until I remembered another funny shoe story.  Last Christmas I was at a party with friends from school.  One of the women had to leave early to take tickets for the basketball game.  We said our goodbyes and off she went.  I mingled for quite a while longer and then it was time for me to head for home.  I went to put on my black Danskos and immediately knew something was amiss.  One shoe felt like mine, but it was quite obvious the other shoe was, oh let's just say, too small for my size 9 1/2 foot.  Could it be?  Yep, the friend that left for the basketball game was in such a hurry that she didn't notice she was wearing size 6 on one foot and 9 1/2 on the other foot.  I hobbled into the game, swapped shoes, and then I headed for home.  I knew she was one person who would appreciate my mismatched shoes.  She did!

One more shoe story.  I have hated my big feet ever since I was about six years old.  My most vivid memory is shoe shopping at Kinney's Shoes.  I chose a really cute pair of tennis shoes.  There were three eyelets for the laces.  I excitedly waited for the clerk to bring out my size.  I sat swinging my legs on the little stool in anticipation.  When he brought out the shoes in my size, I argued with him, for these were NOT the shoes I had chosen.  I marched over to the counter to retrieve the sample shoe I wanted.  I counted the eyelets for him to ensure he understood.  In the end, I left the store in tears without a pair of shoes.  

I never wanted anyone to notice my big feet.  Comments about my big feet used to leave me in tears: "Wow, I never knew you had such huge feet!"  Or "I thought you would be taller with such big feet."  But fretting over my feet never made them smaller nor did it make me feel better.  But laughing at myself certainly made me feel lighter, happier, and unabashed.  It's good to grow up!