I broke a glass today. Not on purpose. It was definitely an accident. But I smashed it to smithereens. Bits of glass scattered everywhere. I think I found all of it. I certainly hope so or I will find it later with my bare feet. This is me we’re talking about after all.
The thing is…people break glasses all the time. There is absolutely nothing unique about that fact. But I have reason to believe that, when I broke that particular glass, it may have been good luck.
I needed a stroke of good luck, let’s face it…I’ve had some pretty crappy luck lately. If you believe in those things.
So, it wasn’t more than an hour after breaking the glass that my husband convinced me to go shoe shopping again. He wanted me to find a pair of comfortable walking shoes so we can take long walks in the park together.
We all know how I feel about shoe shopping. It is an exercise in futility, and horribly discouraging on top of that, but there I was, piling into the car to head to the shoe store for another depressing go at the shoe game.
Amazingly, I didn’t find this trip so depressing. I actually found two pair of very cute sandals that fit, and they didn’t even hurt my feet. They did make me stand about six feet two inches tall—easily four inches taller than my husband—so I didn’t buy them. But I was bolstered by the fact that I actually found shoes that fit.
My husband stayed in the athletic shoe section of the store, shopping for himself. And I think, secretly he was looking for walking shoes for me.
I continued to try on dressy sandals, many of which did not fit, but I reminded myself that there were two pair that most certainly did. I held on to that fact as I pulled box after box off the shelves to try them on.
A short while later I found another pair that fit. Also very cute—probably not very comfortable after a long day at the office—but what I had to remember was, this was not the total loss that every other recent trip to the shoe store had been. How exciting this shoe shopping expedition had become!
My husband called me over to the athletic section and pointed to the sneakers on the wall. This was not at all exciting. They were ugly. All of them. They were boring, and boxy, and made for men. The women’s athletic shoes were not comfortable. I was forced to shop for a man’s shoe. My husband reminded me that I was not shopping for looks, I was shopping for comfort. Do men actually believe that crap? I think they might.
One of our daughters was with us, and she reminded her father that women are always shopping for looks. Comfort is an afterthought. Comfort was actually pretty important to me, but not so important that I could disregard ugly. I just had to close my eyes and go by feelings.
I sat down on a bench as the two of them shoved shoe after shoe at me to try on.
The first shoe was too tight. The next one was too loose. Another shoe had no arch support, several after that felt like I was wearing a block of wood. And then one shoe—as much as I hated to admit it (because it was the ugliest shoe I’d ever seen) was not so bad. It had ample arch support, sufficient cushioning, just enough room in the toes, didn’t rub my ankles, and I couldn’t find anything reasonable to complain about them. I tried. They were really ugly, but amazingly, they were comfortable.
My husband smiled in victory, and told me to wear them out of the store. He wasn’t fooling me. I knew he wanted me to wear them out of the store so I couldn’t bring them back later. I guess I have a pair of walking shoes now. I suppose that means I’ll be expected to walk at the park with him in the evenings. There are worse things, I think. I’ll have to get back to you on that.
I’m thinking maybe I should break a glass every morning before I leave the house. It could get expensive, but if it works, it would be worth it. I’m definitely going to break a glass tomorrow. I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning. I’m not taking any chances!
Until the next time…I’ll be stocking up on cheap drinking glasses and lottery tickets!