Loathsome Shoes

Any of you who have seen my through my youth, know that I despise shoes. One of my mom's favorite stories about my disgust for shoes is the one in which she bought me a pretty pair of Mary Janes. I hated them so much that I threw them in the de-humidifier to hide them. Apparently it worked and she didn't find them until weeks later. Growing up, I had to wear boots and tennis shoes in the winter, but as soon as spring hit, I was shoe-less. It has caused stitches, many a stubbed toe, but still I cannot stand shoes, nor socks, on my feet. When I was little those pajamas with the feet attached were pure torture. My mom loved them. I was never so glad when I finally grew out of their range of sizes.

After I moved out of the house, shoes in winter became obsolete. That may have been my favorite part of moving out of my parents' house... no shoes in winter. I wore flip flops or slip-on shoes all winter long. Much to the disgust of my mother, who begged me to wear "real" shoes, and even bought me a few pairs. ( I think I still have them is a box somewhere...)

I hate everything about "real" shoes, as my mom calls them. The socks, the tying of the laces, and most of all the hot feet. AND they make me feel claustrophobic. I have no idea how and I know the concept sounds odd, but they just do.

Given all that, I am proud to say that after nearly 25 years of existence, I am FINALLY throwing out a pair of tennis shoes, not because I have had them for the customary 4 years, but because I have worn them out.