November 11, 2011 § 1 Comment
I have a shoe obsession.
But it’s not what you think.
I can resist any shoe that even suggests a pinch point or the makings of an uncomfortable commute. In fact, if I think about cutie little shoes too hard, the feminist in me starts lashing out a little. I am, however, obsessed with shoes– I can’t throw old ones away. It used to be just my old running shoes– I’ve got all 10 marathon pairs hanging up in what will soon be e-Lou’s bedroom.
Now, I’ve started keeping Hiram’s too. So far, they’ve demanded only a little bit of space, but I can see where this is headed.
This obsession came to my attention because of the purging. I’ve been able to chuck all kinds of sentimental garbage without even a second look. But shoes. Shoes are a different story. I’ve still got all of them and even fished a pair back out of the trash after a particularly ruthless purging session.
I’ve been thinking about it and decided what’s nice about shoes is that they’re tangible evidence of how far a person’s come. 10 pairs of shoes x 500 miles of training per marathon adds up to, well, craziness.
And Hiram’s shoes. The first pair, the smallest, still look pretty good. The second pair, a little bigger but still adorably small, already show the wear and tear of a boy’s boy in action.
But really, I know I can’t keep all Hiram’s shoes. Given how fast he’s been growing, this concept is ridiculous and even more concerning, will likely become stinky pretty soon. So, I’ve got to set a few parameters and then stick to them.
Or maybe next week.
Or maybe all the purging has afforded me a small section of storage space for just one little indulgence.