They say to truly understand someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. Well, since my husband leaves his shoes directly in my path, which, by the way, is the ONLY path in the rv and isn’t hard to do, I decided to put them on and begin my theoretical mile.

The first thing I noticed, since I was barefoot, was the insoles. They are pretty shot. I thought, “This isn’t very comfortable. Maybe I should get him some new ones.” Women are very talented at wearing the most uncomfortable shoes, sacrificing comfort for fashion. Men are not.

The second thing that hit me immediately was how strangely invasive it felt to be infiltrating the very place of someone else’s foundation. To plant yourself into the leather holders of where they stand, and feel that sort of strength and memory of where they have been and walked. I had to really think about it, but it was cool.

The third thing I noticed was how much bigger they were than my own feet, and I proceeded to march around the rv with my new, duck-like appendages, singing a tune about being in big shoes. This caused me so much joy that I burst into laughter and was filled with complete amusement with myself. When I was quite through, I bent down to grab the toaster from the cupboard and saw how ridiculous my foot looked, started tapping it exaggeratedly and went into another fit of giggling. The shoes were such a pleasant experience for me, I wondered how one could ever be blue while wearing them.

I looked up at my husband, saw the look on his face while observing all of this, and realized that he didn’t understand how this could be so entertaining. Perhaps he should walk a mile in his own shoes…think about that.


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