Shoes

So, I have to admit. I have this really weird thing with shoes. I love to use the same pair of shoes until they get worn out and scuffy, and my mother is forced to throw them away before I get new ones. I mean, unless I need to dress up or something, I'll throw on some "nice" shoes that aren't too scuffy, or go with the "dress code" (for example, an orchestra concert performance, or recital or something). 

But me, I just like my shoes. Me and my shoes we go everywhere together, and my shoes have been everywhere I've been. They're almost like a diary, because every piece of dirt, or sticky piece of gum from everywhere I've been is at the bottom of this shoe. Sure, there are gross things under there I would assume (Dog poop? Dead bugs? Mystery Substances?), but at the same time, there could be a nice smelling flower petal that I stepped on, or something nice like that. Okay, so I know you're all thinking that I'm crazy just about now. But if you think about it. Your shoe is like your diary. And my camel colored aldo flat diary is full of memories from this summer. Basically, everywhere I've went, I've worn these.

They're starting to really scuff up, and I see my mother giving these flats the look...the "you've-got-to-go" look. But until she drags me to the mall to buy new shoes, I'll be perfectly content with the  ones I have on my feet.

Hey, at least I didn't name them or anything...

BISOU

Fréd