Today we say goodbye to yet another pair of my son’s torn-up shoes.
These poor-babies barely lasted a month.
I myself finally worked up the courage to toss a pair of shoes as well:
(wonder where Cyclone gets it?)
When Adam and I were first dating I wore the same pair of rainbow sandals every day. They were the same sandals I’d been wearing since my sophomore year in high school and they were, very lovingly, worn completely through.
Like, toes-on-the-asphalt, through.
For my 21st birthday my parents bought me a brand new pair of rainbows, which I loved but left on my closet floor and continued to wear my old pair for weeks before finally made the switch.
Adam saw me, post birthday, in my old shoes and laughed at me–but honestly, I think that might have been the moment that sealed the deal for me.
I liked my worn out/worn in sandals better then the shinny new ones.
How incredibly low-maintenence.
Now, he’d be the first to tell you that he wishes I’d wear heals every now and then. But having a lady that secretly loves shoes but is just to happy with comfort to actually spend the money or energy it would require to cultivate said love.
That’s not a bad thing.
He’s not exactly fancy himself.