Then I realize it’s the Kenneth Coles with the wrap around laces. Why did this happen?
When the dog eats my shoe, I tell myself; I really didn’t need those shoes. They were out of fashion, the heal was too tall, they were worn out anyway. But these were really, really nice shoes.
When Tim comes home, I tell him about the debacle, and ask him to talk me off the ledge.
“It’s a tall heal, tell me I shouldn’t be wearing them,” I said.
“You shouldn’t be wearing them,” he said.
“Do you even know what shoes I am talking about?”
“Yes," he said. "They are the shoes you wore with the Mad Men dress when we went to the Buttes for your birthday.”
"You still remember what shoes I wore!" I looked at him incredulously. And laughed hysterically. This event happened a whole life ago, pre-kid. Who even remembers events from B.C. (before child)
It’s good to know that after so many years and kids, he can still remember those kinds of details.
It kept me smiling for the rest of the weekend. I might as well have been a school girl, whose crush casually makes a “nice shoes” comment and it sets her flying to the moon.
The boys were intrigued by my laughter and Tim told them the story about the fancy restaurant. They want to get dressed up and go there too. "Maybe for Mom's birthday."
Fancy shoes and fancy restaurants make for good stories. But that's not real life. Real life isn’t just about the highlight reals and date nights. Real life is the dog eating the fancy shoes. It’s about the commutes. And sick kids. And loading dishwashers. And calming your wife down over an eaten shoe.
Happy Anniversary Tim. (Fucking dog ate my shoes.)