The Shoe Gods

The Shoe Gods were with me yesterday. Dropped a nice size piece of metal on the top of my feet. Landed more on the right foot. Hurt, hurt, hurt. Afraid to take off my shoes and look. Because I'm an idiot, sometimes if I'm just tacking something quickly I'll not change from my U.S. Keds to my welding shoes. Who knows the damage if I'd not had on the heavy shoes??? The Shoe Gods decided my ice cream colored U.S. Keds needed washing (very much) and they were still wet when I went out to start on my little table. When I dropped the table on my feet, I said a big thank you to - THE SHOE GODS.

In a related story, The Shoe Gods did have the last laugh. Had lunch with my aunt on Wednesday. She loves The Mermaid Bar inside Neiman's Northpark. She insists I dress up, no jeans. I was looking pretty fine, brown slacks, cream blouse and a little brown jacket. Before lunch we went to the makeup counter to get our faces made up. I never buy (use drug store stuff), but I'm swinging my feet as I sit on the tall stool looking in the mirror. My aunt says in that stern voice when I'm in trouble, "Lottie Kate, is Bob out of town?" No, Ma'am. "Did Bob see you before you left the house?" Yes, Ma'am and I wait for her to tell me how nice I look. Nope. "Lottie Kate, I'm assuming you have another pair of shoes just like the pair you're wearing right now?" I look down. Sure enough, I have on brown loafers, one with tassel, one penny loafer. Could my newly made up face turn any redder? You could see the makeup melting off.

Scary still is this is the second time this has happened.

Laughing Shoe Gods.