The New Shoes

I have big feet. They used to range from a ten to an eleven. I used to have a bunion on my right foot. I live in Quebec, where women simply don't come in my size. They're all "petite" here. Elven. Sylphs.

This used to make it nearly impossible for me to find shoes. Add to that the complication of my height. I don't need high heels. I've seen women here who need high heels to reach the doorbell. That's not my issue.

We also didn't have a lot of money when I was a kid, so the thought of paying more that twenty dollars for a pair of shoes was unthinkable! So, there might have been shoes out there that fit me, but I never got a whiff of them!

Well, a few years ago I turned a corner. I had the bunion removed, and I started paying prime prices for my shoes. Nowadays, even in Quebec, shoe stores are stocking tens and elevens. I'm down to a ten, now that the bunion is a thing of the past. There still isn't the variety available that there is in sizes 5-7, but it's a lot better than it used to be.

So when I'd gone looking for several days in a row without buying any shoes, and I found a pair that gave my feet good support, that fit beautifully - just tight enough not to rub anything - that actually made my feel look SMALLER... well, I bought them.

I didn't (of course) mention this to Hubby. I was wearing them when he picked me up, and carrying the clearly-labelled bag from the store. I wore the shoes around the house for the next few days, and the bag stayed on the bedroom floor in plain sight - in fact, he actually had to step over the bag to get to and from his side of the bed...

Nevertheless, one night, just past midnight, I was awakened by a loud "AHA!!!!" right next to me. "what? I asked, sleepily. "You never mentioned FX LaSalle!" he snarled at me. "I wondered why there was insufficient funds when I went to buy the plywood!"

I considered my reply carefully. Between pointing out to him that he'd been walking over the bag, that I'd been wearing the shoes, that I work for a living, etc., I took the quiet side, rolled over, ignored him, and went back to sleep.

We got around to discussing the shoes a few days later in the car. And that's when it hit me - the truth about shoes.

Specifically, the truth about why women keep buying shoes.

Oh, sure, we can manufacture all sorts of "reasons." We wear multicolored outfits, we need matching shoes. There are many different varieties of shoes for different activities, etc etc etc... And these may be good reasons in and of themselves, but I found the TRUTH.

It's all about Cinderella.

We have it hidden in the back of our minds, you see, that if we can only find that PERFECT PAIR of shoes, then Mr. RIGHT will suddenly find us, and we'll live HAPPILY EVER AFTER!!!

The more I think about this, the more I think I've nailed it. See, the Prince liked DANCING. With those perfect shoes, we'll find the man who likes to dance! (Those guys are rare, always in demand, and worth their weight in gold.)

With those perfect shoes, we'll get driven in a golden carriage and treated like royalty! No more potscrubbing for us! We're well-heeled now!

I stand by this realization. On solid ground, on my two feet, beautifully arrayed in my new shoes.