You see that picture? That’s my wife’s box of shoes, primarily Allbirds.
Allbirds, which we both love, are basically wool shoes from a company that’s trying to reduce its carbon imprint. They are comfortable as all get out.
But that’s now what this post is about.
Chris Black, my wife, has several pair of Allbirds as do I. We buy them on eBay where you can find good prices for them.
But that’s not what this post is about either.
This is what the post is about:
Chris lost a (one) shoe. You see that, as George Santos would say, blue-ish one on top, the one missing its “other?” She’s looked all over the house trying to find its mate and so far – nada.
How do you lose one shoe from a pair? You take them off - together. You put them away – together.
Yes, we looked in the freezer.
I have a lifelong history of not being able to do anything with my hands (stick with me, there's a point coming), meaning, drive a nail into the right place of something, fixing a faucet leak. You know, the basic things almost every competent human being can do.
(When I was moving into a new apartment years ago, a couple of friends and I were ready to repaint it. One was giving instructions – Roy you do the living room, Richard will do the bedroom. I was waiting for my instruction and it didn’t come. I said what do you want me to do? They said in unison “the closets.”)
I have the nick name “Thumbs” because I am all thumbs when comes to this kind of thing.
Chris, on the other hand, comes from a long line of plumbers in her family and knows how to fix things like a professional handy-woman.
I also can be forgetful at times.
Thus, I’m kind of loving that Chris is unable to find the shoe. I keep calling her “B. Jay” because losing a shoe is akin to something I would do (but, for the record, I’ve never lost one shoe).
I mean, where the heck can it be? It’s not that fancy-schmancy a shoe that it can walk off by itself.
We have a running gag because often Chris, probably unknowingly, will tease me by using a standing joke I've used on her. My response is always, “get your own shtick!” (I even programed Alexa to say it. Yes, THAT I can do.).
Now, continuing her transition into me (sort of), she has: Lost. A. Shoe. One.
Anyone done that?
If so, where should we look???
Allbirds, which we both love, are basically wool shoes from a company that’s trying to reduce its carbon imprint. They are comfortable as all get out.
But that’s now what this post is about.
Chris Black, my wife, has several pair of Allbirds as do I. We buy them on eBay where you can find good prices for them.
But that’s not what this post is about either.
This is what the post is about:
Chris lost a (one) shoe. You see that, as George Santos would say, blue-ish one on top, the one missing its “other?” She’s looked all over the house trying to find its mate and so far – nada.
How do you lose one shoe from a pair? You take them off - together. You put them away – together.
Yes, we looked in the freezer.
I have a lifelong history of not being able to do anything with my hands (stick with me, there's a point coming), meaning, drive a nail into the right place of something, fixing a faucet leak. You know, the basic things almost every competent human being can do.
(When I was moving into a new apartment years ago, a couple of friends and I were ready to repaint it. One was giving instructions – Roy you do the living room, Richard will do the bedroom. I was waiting for my instruction and it didn’t come. I said what do you want me to do? They said in unison “the closets.”)
I have the nick name “Thumbs” because I am all thumbs when comes to this kind of thing.
Chris, on the other hand, comes from a long line of plumbers in her family and knows how to fix things like a professional handy-woman.
I also can be forgetful at times.
Thus, I’m kind of loving that Chris is unable to find the shoe. I keep calling her “B. Jay” because losing a shoe is akin to something I would do (but, for the record, I’ve never lost one shoe).
I mean, where the heck can it be? It’s not that fancy-schmancy a shoe that it can walk off by itself.
We have a running gag because often Chris, probably unknowingly, will tease me by using a standing joke I've used on her. My response is always, “get your own shtick!” (I even programed Alexa to say it. Yes, THAT I can do.).
Now, continuing her transition into me (sort of), she has: Lost. A. Shoe. One.
Anyone done that?
If so, where should we look???
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