I don’t get dressed up often, but Critter’s fifth grade promotional ceremony was reason enough for me to break out my nicest skirt and crisp poplin blouse. I was intent to honor my boy’s graduation from ‘little kids’ school’.
I have a pair of flats for this outfit that is exceedingly comfortable. They’re actually Croc brand shoes, made with the same spongey material their ugly clogs are, but these are instead conservatively designed for business use.
As we prepared to leave, I looked down and saw something strange on one of my shoes.
Are those holes? And why are they wet?
What the?
You have got to be kidding me.
My beautiful dress flats.
I’ll kill him.
Critter’s kitten had decided he was a dog, apparently. Sir Monty had gnawed all the way around my left shoe. I’m not made of money; I sure as heck can’t go buying new dress flats every time Sir Monty steals into my closet.
I said something to that effect when I angrily showed them to Critter.
“What are people going to think when they see these shoes?” I barked at him.
“Just explain to them that you saved a baby kitty’s life, and every time you see these shoes you remember what a good person you are.”
***sigh***
Aw hell. That boy is smooth. Damn smooth.
……And these are now my favorite shoes.
