A friend of mine, Darice, had a celebration to mark the occasion. She poppped open a bottle of champagne. She hired a caterer to prepare a delicious array of appetizers. And she jumped for joy.
You see, she will not go anywhere with me if I'm wearing my Crocs. (The photo below is not a picture of my shoes. I have a tan pair and a black pair. I could only dream of orange ones like these.)
|photo by PetiteFamily93|
Before you grab a handful of rocks and threaten to stone her for being unreasonable, I should explain that my Crocs are not new ones. I've had the two pairs for several years. And because I wear each of them 2-3 times a week, they are worn. Run down. Pathetic.
I should also add that I wear them in the creation of some hideous ensembles. For me, they are not just for the ultra-casual outfits, like jeans and a t-shirt. Oh, no. I wear them with nice slacks. I wear them with skirts to work (because they are as comfortable as slippers) and (skip this next part if you have a sensitive stomach) I wear them without any kind of stockings. Bare legs. Old lady legs. A whiter-shade-of-pale legs, with the only "color" being supplied by the stubble of leg-hair scattered along my not-really-slim calves. However, when the weather gets cold, I wear them with jeans or slacks with socks. (No, even I would not wear them with socks when sporting a skirt! Give me a credit for having a modicum of fashion sense!)
As I was walking across my classroom before the kids came in, I felt something flapping against my ankle. I looked down, and saw that one of the straps had gotten detached. (I never use the straps; they are always swung to the front, rather than the back.) In vain, I tried to reattach it. Unable to, I thought of stapling it back (that would hurt my ankle when the staple--as it was sure to do--would scratch my flesh) or using a glue gun (I doubted it would hold it permanently). I finally just cut both straps off, since I had no other pair of shoes to change into.
When I told Darice about my beloved tan Crocs, she said, "Thank goodness they're in the trash now, where they belong." Not so fast. In the trash? Why would you assume I threw them away?
After all, they're still in perfect shape for yard work or a walk in the park. I said they had breathed their last breath as work shoes. They're not completely dead...yet.