One of the features of our new apartment is a working garbage disposal. It's been a few years since we've had one, and Mr. Fob and I are suddenly discovering a new source of marital conflict. According to Mr. Fob, movies and television have taught him that you should never stick your hand in the garbage disposal, even if it is turned off. I prefer to rely on common sense and the fact that the off switch means "off" and stick my hand in to make sure no utensils are hiding before turning it on. Mr. Fob thinks I'm crazy. What do you think? Do you stick your hand in the garbage disposal or do you like to grind up your spoons and forks?
My mom bought me these shoes at Price Club about fifteen years ago. At first I didn't really like them; I thought they were clunky and looked funky. Since I usually only wore jeans and T-shirts with airbrushed pictures of wolves on them at fifteen, I find it kind of funny that I turned my nose up at a good pair of Birkenstocks. Thankfully over the years I came to love the way they fit my feet and to realize that they didn't look that bad. I had them resoled a while ago when they started wearing through to the cork on the bottom. About two years ago I realized that it was probably time to do that again, but I procrastinated. It's hard to tell in the picture, but the heels are now worn clean through to the footbed. The footbeds are cracked across my instep, the straps are coming unglued, and they are filthy. My mom bought me new sandals when I was in Las Vegas last week and I'm excited to wear them (they're not Birks). But for some reason I still can't bring myself to throw these away.
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But seriously, it's a good thing you got new sandals. Worn out BIRKS don't offer much in the way of arch support. I really need a new pair too, perhaps I can get my mom to get me some?
I always called them my Peppermint Patty shoes. I started wearing them when my wardrobe of choice was reverse fit gap jeans and a white (too big) tee shirt. You've got to love the 90's.
When you have a trusted and used item for so long it is hard to say goodbye. Every single on of my children have slept in my nasty old chair and I can't toss it until this last baby sleeps there too. (though it will just be for a photo op. The chair is really too old to be a baby bed anymore)