Thursday, July 25, 2013

I did not step on a pop top, but still...

I know I have absolutely no right. I know that I they have worked hard for me, under sometimes adverse conditions, year after year after year, but I have to admit, when they blew out last week all I felt was betrayal.

Wtf? Really? That's it?

Yes, I picked you up for $1.99 at Old Navy, what, 7 years ago? And yes, your black and low profile and super comfy and so easy to wear, so I did it all the time. But right now? Like this?

This was no the-bottom-round-thingymabob-slips-through-the-hole-but-you-can-still-fix-it-with-some-ingenious-tip-from-Pinterest situation.


It was a clean break from the top. A break from which you can never recover. A we're-completely-through-there-is-no-going-back break-up.


Just look at them though. Perfectly worn in. My feet forever etched into their silky rubber. Okay, so maybe they are so worn in that I have to take them off if walking on wet pavement or any other wet surface because there is absolutely no tread left and I fear for my life. But I was OK with this. I loved them. I worked around it.

I didn't even care about the missing bite and tiny teeth marks that my former baby dog made in them, years and years ago. These were just part of the deal. A quick way for me to recognize them among the crush of other black flip flops at various yoga studios.

But no more. The perfect relationship has come to an end.

I will miss you, and always think of you tenderly, Old Navy black flip flops. But there is only one thing to do....go buy another.


Me, You, or Ellie said...

Oh how tragic! Too bad Mark Dowd wasn't there to throw them into the river for you -- they could have lived happily ever after with Jacquie's broken flip flops.

Can't wait to see the new pair!


Pat said...

One of life's true tragedies!
Love, Mom