Purse Speaks the Truth, Story at 11

A few years ago several of us had purses that had a crazy little cartoon lady holding a sign pronouncing some sort of philosophy or personal attribute. One friend had, "Put your big girl panties on and deal with it." I chose "Shoe Diva." I had no reason to count my shoes until THE GREAT ATHLETES FOOT INVASION OF 2008. And keeping in mind that in the last two years I have purged lots and bought way below quota, I discovered I have 28 pairs of shoes. Not counting slippers. Now, in the past this fact would have made me proud. But knowing that all 28 pairs have to be disinfected is overwhelming. I mean, the excitement of getting my pharmacy gift card to cover the cost of multiple cans of generic sneaker spray (which has quite a pleasing scent, surprisingly) does not match the mental anguish of trying to decide how to man this disinfecting operation. I have this recurring thought of lining them all up like soldiers in the driveway, but something tells me that might not quite make me feel good about myself in the eyes of my neighbors.

So Friday night we took Chicken to buy new tennis shoes. When I told him we were going, he said, "I get geen ones." Having done my research online, I knew I was seeking the New Balance Oscar the Grouch green shoes. And I'm going to tell you, if I had not known that these existed, I would have been in a cold sweat in the mall because after we had left our second store because they didn't have "geen ones" I was starting to worry. But low and behold, we find the shoes. And he is so happy he has to wear them out of the store, sans socks. He pranced around all night in his new shoes, even refusing to take them off to go to bed. On the fifth try at 1 am, I was able to finally get the shoes off him. Ladies and gentleman, Shoe Diva and Son.

Oddly enough, I recall that my friends wanted to buy me the purse that said, "My only domestic quality is that I live in a house." I'm still stumped by their thinking.