I don’t think I’m vain. Do you think I’m vain? Nah. I don’t think I’m vain. But maybe vanity is one of those qualities like humility – the second you say you aren’t it, you’ve just proved that you are.
Anyway, I stepped out of the car across the street from my church this morning and just kept on stepping out of things. Like my shoes.
My fave white summer dressy wedge sandals started feeling a little … weird … with my first few steps on the asphalt. Especially when the soles stayed where they were planted on the 385-degree asphalt and my feet kept going on without them. When they say central Florida summers are hot enough to melt butter, they ain’t kiddin’.
So my ding-dang shoes fell all to pieces. And we were at church. And the service had already started. And Spouse started laughing so hard I thought he would hock up a kidney. And a police car was heading right for us as I halted mid-stride, suddenly barefoot in a red dress. As I turned to collect my AWOL footwear from the middle of the road so the traffic could continue unimpeded, the cop made a full stop, rolled down his window, and deadpanned, “Well, that’s not something you see everyday.”
Of course Spouse had to contribute to the conversation and paused busting a gut long enough to spew, “She’s trying to walk in the footsteps of Jesus but she just can’t toe the line.” Then both he and the cop burst into side-splitting guffaws.
Humph. I was not finding this funny. Not one bit. Perhaps there was a teensy weensy bit of vanity involved.
Red-faced, I plucked my shoe soles from the sizzling asphalt – along with what little dignity I could muster – and entered the church flat-footed in what now were effectively fancy bedroom shoes. I stuck my pathetic-ly incompetent wedge soles in my purse and attempted to hold my head high.
Only I felt really short. (Even shorter than my usual 5-foot self.) I had just lost 2 inches of sole. But hey, my soul – the most important thing – was in tact. And I worshipped my God regardless of nearly naked feet. And ignored Spouse still chortling beside me through the entire first praise song.
It’s a good thing Papa God loves us as we are. I suspect He never even noticed my wardrobe malfunction.
And for my longtime faithful readers who recall my post a couple years ago about the embarrassing time my hilarious Southern Mama’s shoes dry rotted into tiny shards at her best friend’s funeral, what goes around, comes around. I’m pretty sure I heard the faint echo of Mama’s unique laugh resounding from the general direction of heaven this morning as I hobbled through the church doors.
How about you, dearest BFF? When was your last encounter with public humiliation?
Won’t you share it here with your community of besties? Hey, if we don’t keep our sense of humor, we may not have any sense a ‘tall.
That’s the first thing I thought of when I started reading your mishap from this morning…..your mama & her shoe mishap from a few years ago! And she made the best of it, just like she did everything else in life! (You should share that story again!!) Loved your mama, she was so special to all who knew her!!?
You are such a faithful reader, Becky, I figured you’d remember that post about Mama shedding her shoes at Miss Mary G’s funeral. I guess whether I like it or not, I’m turning into my mama! I miss her so much – her first anniversary of her graduation to heaven just passed and I think about her and Daddy almost daily. Do you do that too? Your parents were the BEST.
Oh my goodness. Sorry, I am having a good laugh at your expense. Reminds me of a time I stepped on the back of my sister’s flip flop and the toe piece pulled from the sole and the flip flop was hanging around her ankle. Right in front of the local hockey team having coffee. I split my gut and sister was steaming. We laugh about it to this day. It happened over 40 years ago. You are a good sport Debora. Thank you for the laugh. I love your stories.
I feel for your sister, Jill, but I’m glad it’s become a hilarious memory for you two. That’s so important for sibs, don’t you think? To have those unique, one-of-a-kind laughs to share for a lifetime? We end up being the only people in our lifeboat as time passes and it’s good to enjoy it rather than making waves.
Carol Maldonado says
I love reading your stories .. you make me laugh .. sometimes you make me cry .. but it’s always a blessing to hear from you ..I pretend I am sitting across from you with a cup of tea.
Thank you for being just a joy and a blessing.
God has truly blessed you with a gift that encourages others
Thank you so much, Carol. You are wonderful to take the time to write (and read my posts!). I APPRECIATE you, dearest BFF!!!
I stopped by the restroom before leaving my office. I walked across campus and a main thoroughfare to the lot where my car was parked and then drove to Publix. While walking through the automatic double doors a woman, after several attempts, got my attention. Annoyed, I struggled to interpret her awkward words, facial expressions and hand motions…until I realized I had tucked my skirt right into my not-so-opaque tights prior to trekking across campus. OOPS!!
HaHaHa! Oh. My. Gosh. That’s awful and awfully funny at the same time, Sheila! My sister did much the same thing in Publix; once a fellow customer pointed out to her that she had her skirt tucked inside her panties in the back, she was so mortified that she left her cart right there and fled to her car. I don’t think she ever went back to that store again!
Cheryl Johnston says
Oh, how this reminded me of the several times I’ve walked out of dry-rotted soles or had them crumble as I walked and wondered what all that debris was behind me. You handled it well and Chuck did the normal thing – I’m sure he adores his funny Deb. Thanks for sharing and helping us to lay down the pursuit of perfection.
Cheryl, I’m glad to hear I’m not the only one decomposing shoes happens to. And here we are, so proud that we’re still wearing the same shoes we wore 20 years ago! Hugs to you, girl!
Beth Blalock says
I do love how your stories are real and down to earth. We can all relate. One Sunday morning I was in charge of getting the cafe area set up for people before the services. I, too had a mishap of the sole of my shoe ( a two inch platform) coming unglued. I was lucky enough to find some clear packing tape and wrapped them up good. When I got home I used super glue to fix them. I still carry it in my purse when I wear them.
Oh, I love that story, Beth. I think you may be the only person in the world shorter than me so suddenly missing two inch heels is blaringly obvious. I didn’t think of duct tape, but Chuck did offer to try to glue them back together when we got home but they were just too far gone. I guess both of us need to buck up and buy a new pair.
I only wish I would have been there!
And yes, I thought of your mom at the funeral story. And yes, for sure, she was laughing with Chuck!
I always wish you were here, Jan! To misquote Jerry McGuire, “You finish me!”
Jan, you officially have my permission for your shoes to dry rot at my funeral. It’s what best friends do.
I needed a good laugh! Thanks for sharing your life with us!
Funniest thing lately for me was listening to an audio book when I picked up a friend. She started listening and asked “What in the world are you listening to?” Then in shock, she realized it was her!
Yes, that WAS funny and I happened to be there. I’m the one that got in Sandi’s car and listened for a long moment to what seemed like familiar words but I just couldn’t place it … and when I asked what we were listening to, she burst out laughing. It was my own Too Blessed to be Stressed on audiobook!