Not MY Boots

These are not my boots. Okay, well, these are not my REAL boots. They are real boots, maybe they can be called real boots.

I dislike these boots because:
-they are short tops (they make my socks fall down)
-they are round toed (personal preference there)
-they are crepe soled (its like dancing in sneakers, not the same)
-they are NOT my real boots

Why am I wearing them? Because the nice man at the boot repair shop decided to conduct business in Amarillo. My boots are the MOST comfortable pair of boots that I have ever owned, and I have owned some boots. Boots should be durable, they should be comfortable and they should be functional. (Don't ask me why I got caught wearing crocks to the barn when I'm so darn picky about my boots, okay?)

My boots have served me so well over the past year that when my Beloved mentioned buying me a new pair, I literally cried. In the middle of Cavender's I cried. I love my boots. His argument was, "Kaci, sweetie, you have holes in the soles of both boots."

I whined, "Sooooooooooooo? I can still walk through water without getting my socks wet! Please? I LOOOOOOOOOOOOVE my boots!" (Picture a five year old, seriously, I like my boots that much.)

So my husband, who obviously loves me very much, did not take offense that his offer to buy me new boots was turned down. Instead, he pried my treasured boots out of my fist and made a special trip to Amarillo to take them to the nearest boot repair shop and I have been waiting anxiously for their safe return.

So tonight, finally, I can take off this loathsome pair and return my feet to their proper place, in MY boots. I think I will turn these into a planter in my living room...yeah, that's it.

Thanks for letting me ramble, whine, whatever. Have a great weekend! If I can pray for you, please let me know.