I was out at my parents' house today. Painting a little furniture up at my Dad's shop. I was dressed for the occasion. Jeans. T-shirt. Flip-flops. Nothing exciting. My usual. I went down to their house and was running up the stairs to the second floor in the dark. Because, well, I just didn't turn on the light. About of a third of the way up, I drove the end of my right big toe straight into that sassafrass stair with great force. Cause I'm a klutz.
After a string of words I'm a bit ashamed to admit to, I had a sudden realization. "Oh crap! I can't let Daddy know I did this! I don't have on real shoes!" At which point I decided I needed to man-up and shake it off. It was only when I got into the light that I noticed I was bleeding profusely where my toenail had bent about a quarter of the way back. I will spare you further details, but suffice it to say that the reason I had gone up the stairs in the first place was now a distant memory.
I hobbled back down the stairs and was putting pressure on it when my Mom walked in, hands on hips, and asked me what happened. I gave her the quick version. And, of course, her immediate reply was, "You'd better not let your Daddy see that. You don't have on real shoes."
Let me clarify. Daddy thinks that "real" shoes must have the following attributes:
1. A sole. A thick sole. A puncture-resistant sole. (This means no Crocs, Mama.)
2. A covering that goes completely over the top of the foot. Preferably made of leather. Ideally with a steel toe.
3. Laces.
Of course, my Havianas had none of these attributes. But, to me, they are shoes. Let Webster prove my point....
shoe /SHo͞o/
|
Noun
| A covering for the foot, typically made of leather, with a sturdy sole and not reaching above the ankle. |
|
Now, granted, the "leather" and the "sturdy sole" part would lead one to believe that my Daddy is spot on. And he is. But that doesn't mean that I am wrong. The straps on the flip-flops are a "covering." (And I do have some with leather straps that nonetheless wouldn't pass his test.) And I would argue that my sole is sturdy. Its flexible. It works OK when it's wet. (Unless you are on slick concrete or a wooden ramp. And that is all I am gonna say about that.) And it makes a great paddle for the kids when nothing else is handy.
Sandals are arguably the oldest shoes, anyway. Isn't that what Jesus and his crew wore? And the Romans? Who could argue with that?
Besides, Daddy should just be glad I am WEARING shoes. When I was a kid, I was constantly stubbing my toes while skateboarding barefoot. I had an ingrown toenail on my right foot that was perpetually infected from getting it stomped on playing basketball or football with the neighbors. Those pop tops that used to come on Coke cans were my nemesis. And I remember when I was about 9 or 10 going to my Aunt Mary's house while it was under construction. I clearly remember Mama telling me to stay in the truck because I was barefoot and there were nails around. ("You don't want to step on a rusty nail and have to get a shot.") So I did what any nine year old would do and waited til she was about 20 yards away, got out of the truck, and immediately had my heel impaled with a roofing tack. Which I also remember caused all manner of drama from me, but I don't recall if it was just from seeing it stuck in my foot or when Daddy pulled it out.
Anyway, I am not backing down from my real shoe argument. Flip-flops are real shoes. Are they appropriate for working on most stuff? Probably not. I will throw him that bone. And I will probably wear different shoes to their house tomorrow. But I'm still wearing the flip-flops at home. Keeps the kids on their toes. They never know when I may whip one off and go to town on 'em.
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