It was a sad, sad, day

Something terrible happened this week.

I am not going to write about how I started a diet this week and have had cake every day since. I am not going to write about how much I love the dewrinkle cycle on my dyer. No. This post carries with it a hurt. A hurt that is felt deep down within my sole. Yes, I mean SOLE.

My flops have lost their flip.


Let us pause for a moment of silence.


It all started two years ago. I was working as a program director at the YMCA. It was the end of summer day camp and I was cleaning off the Lost and Found table. And there before my eyes was a pair of brown Old Navy flip flops. Now, I had been to Old Navy a few weeks before to make a flip flop purchase. But, sadly, they were out of brown. So, you can only imagine my exitement as I gazed upon the lost pair of flippity goodness. It's like heaven opened up and a light shined down and landed on those shoes. I think I even heard angles singing "Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Halle -Luh-Jah". I am pretty convinced that we were destined to meet.


I examined them and secretly tried them on. It was a perfect fit. I couldn't believe it. That day was a very special day. We formed a bond that has been going strong for the last two summers. Don't judge me for stealing them off the lost and found. They would have gone into the trash and we just couldn't have that happen. They were a perfectly good pair of shoes. No matter that they only cost three dollars and had been worn by some sweaty kid.

I have to impress upon you the importance of these shoes. This last week, when on vacation, they were the only pair of shoes I wore all week. I wear them every day. EVERY DAY PEOPLE. They are conformed to my feet. They are the perfect picture of flip flop delight.

Now what do I do? They are gone.

I was standing outside of Starbucks on Monday night after a fun birthday party. I was standing with my friends just chatting away. When all of the sudden I heard a "pop". I ever so slowly looked down at my shoe, hoping that what I thought had happened....didn't. But, I was ever so wrong. Here is a picture. God rest her sole.

The really sad part is that I have to throw one perfectly good flip flop away. All of my summer wardrobe choices are lost without the compliment of these brown shoes.

I know what you're thinking. "Why don't you just go and buy another pair". Well, I will tell you. It just won't be the same. I don't think I can ever bond with another pair in the way that I did with these. I bought some black ones earlier this year and I have only worn them once. I felt a since of unfaithfullness.


Dear favorite brown flops-

I will miss you dear friends. I don't know what I will do without you. We have been through so much together. You have traveled with me to many shores and we have seen lots of things. You were there when I stepped off the plane in Guatemala. You helped me travel upon many a dirt road. You were there when I celebrated two anniversaries. You are my companions at work each and every day. You were there along the sandy beaches of Florida. You were there through it all.

You have had a small rock stuck in your heel for about a year now. I didn't remove it because I thought that it gave you some character. I took the rock out on Saturday and I think your response was to snap. I am so sorry if I caused you any hurt.
May peace be with you brown flops. God rest your sole. God rest your sole.