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.

No.

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.

Sigh.

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.