Both pairs of my beloved Birkenstocks have seen a better day. I really did try to equally distribute the gift of potent Elasticwaistbandlady foot sweat between them, but they're still weathered down to a point where the insides look like Tiny Tim's teeth after he's been on a licorice bender while tiptoeing through the tulips.
The Birkenstock Two have lost all ability to properly grip my massive feet. So consequently I struggle when I'm walking to keep my tootsies from sliding around. They also make unholy armpit fart noises from the foot friction. I've grown weary of laughing off the embarrassment and telling people that I opted for shoe insoles manufactured by the Whoopee Cushion company.
I don't enjoy shoe shopping at all. If I could get my house full of mini-Infidels to work like little sweatshop elves-cobbling together shoes- I'd happily take that option over dragging myself to the store.
Luckily, I found these tanned leather beauties that scream out "MIDDLE-AGED MAMA!" while replacing my oldest daughter's black EMO shoes that sprung a leak last month. (I think she wore them down from constantly polishing them. I have weird kids with weird shoe fetishes)
Since Ross Dress For Less discount stores don't offer complimentary hose footies for trying on shoes, I snagged my new sandals without even giving them a trial run through the bargain lingerie section.
The first day of ownership I wore them to Church without incident. The second time I slipped them on though, I noticed an odd "SSSSSSSSSSS" sound that followed me everywhere I went.
I keep losing steam as I age, but I'm not losing air. My mind kept nagging me. Maybe I did have a slow leak somewhere? Well, I wasn't about to stick the tire pressure gauge in any of my holes to find out!
Perhaps my Made In India shoes came specially equipped with a bunch of baby snakes inside, and that's them in there, hissing with each step I take?
I exhausted all logical possibilities and finally concluded that the annoying sound was emanating from the ridiculously puffy sandal insole.
Terrific. Now the first impression I make when I sashay into a room will be my lifelike impression of air whooshing out of a padded, cushiony toilet seat when you plop down on it.
How will I ever win the Hide-And Seek Grand Championship when my shoes betray my location with every step?
These sandals have been rejected by the Stealth Ninja Society and The National Library Association.
*I kept the 10 sticker inside so I could show any doubters that I am and always will be a PERFECT 10!*