Which ones?

I’d been standing in the store for a half hour trying to figure it out when I sent the desperate question out over text.

Understanding the seriousness of the situation, my twin called right away and talked me through the options. There were the standard, nondescript, go-with-everything pairs. I couldn’t lose with those. If I wanted to live on the edge I could get the blacks ones with the little, colorful umbrellas. But rain boots with umbrellas on them? Kind of overkill. Or I could get totally crazy and go for the pink. She dared me.

My friend Carrie texted: Pink!

The husband texted: don’t come home without pink ones

So I grabbed the only pink pair left (for $19.99, YES, that’s 10 bucks a foot!) and ran to the register before I could change my mind.

In the middle of the night I realized I’d totally made the wrong decision. They would have to go back. They were completely impractical and so not me.

I figured I better go downstairs and try them on one last time.

As I studied my funny feet in the mirror, I suddenly remembered why I really had no choice but to keep the boots:

I am Hope’s mother. Duh!

And as Hope’s mother I simply must array myself in pink and white polka dots every chance I get. I imagined her reaction upon discovery of the boots. She would squeal and swoon and beg for a pair for herself and declare me the coolest mom on the planet.

I giggled and spun in the mirror like she would do. I kicked up my heels, and suddenly I loved my new boots!

Young, bold, cute, fun. Whee! That’s me.

Before the storm...

When I sat down to remove them I couldn’t get them off. I pulled and pulled and twisted until I was sweating and out of breath. My ankles hurt and I pulled something in my back. I couldn’t move. It was past midnight and I wondered if I was going to lose circulation in my feet, if I would meet my Maker in my polka doot boots. Someone would find me there on the basement steps the next day. They’d have to use the jaws of life to cut me out.

Some time later I woke up on the stairs and was finally able to work those boots off my feet. I limped to bed. Young, bold, cute, fun. Whee! That’s me.

Predictably Hope went gaga over my new footwear, and she can’t wait to see me strut my stuff. She’s been doing rain dances and praying for precipitation ever since.

Me? This pinkalicious mama is checking the weather and appreciating sunshine, scared to death of putting those things back on.

19 thoughts on “Pink!

  1. There MUST be something that will help you slip them off! I’d like to describe how boots are removed here in Texas – but, well, I better not. Leave it to say Brandon might pay for his encouragement!

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