Dutch Feet

I'm a low fashion kind of girl. . . ahem. . .lady. I don't do skirts/dresses (yet I signed a contract and taught for four years at a school that required their female teachers to wear a dress or skirt every day. . . interesting). I rarely wear heals. I wear my Chaco sandals every single day--just check out my tan lines. I'm a t-shirt person. Sweatshirts--love them. Give me a hoodie baby!

I just returned from a shopping trip extravaganza from Kohl's. I'm not a huge fan, but I do love when they send me a 30% off coupon. My head starts spinning at all the possible deals. Gary, the true deal maker in the family, sent me off even before the kids were in bed. "Have fun!". I did.

Generally, I'm not a shopper, but hey--30% and I can return anything. Rock-n-roll. I tried on shirts. I looked for swimsuits for Garrison (there are none--BOO!), I wandered through the kitchen gadgets section and dreamed for a little bit. I even looked at a crock pot. (You have three Shanda--no more for now!) Then, I made my way to the shoe section. Why not? I have a coupon. I have no children with me. I have feet.

Size 11 is not a popular size. Even when I discovered shoes that looked attractive and comfortable (these standards knock out most of the shoes in that place!) I couldn't find size 11. No wonder I wear Chacos all day long--they are mens and in my size. Part of me is thankful for these big old Dutch feet and of course to Garrison who pushed me from a respectable size 10 into the size 11 camp during my pregnancy--you are grounded when you are 11 just because!!!! I'm thankful because I'm not tempted to buy many shoes. I can't find any that fit. Perhaps in heaven I'll be a size 6 all around. . . nah. . . I think I'd fall down all the time.