One Foot at a Time

Mom, can I have a cuddle?

That's Sophie's method of requesting some snuggle time. She used to say "I wanna cuddle", which I assumed meant, in grammatically correct fashion, I want TO cuddle.

Now, I realize, she was probably actually saying I want A cuddle. Which has now morphed into Can I HAVE a cuddle.

Like a cuddle is an actual, tangible item.

Isn't that awesome?

I just re-read that, and now the word 'cuddle' seems like a completely nonsensical word to me. It also seems kind of.....harsh... for what the word portrays. Those letters, in that order....I don't know....they don't seem very cuddly. Maybe it's the two ds and the l right there in the middle, all sticking up in defiance. And a 'u' just seems like the least friendly vowel, doesn't it? Kind of like it's angry. I wish the word for cuddle would have been created to be a little cuddlier, like maybe 'slooshie' or something.

Who's with me?

Yeah.

So, Tuesday morning, I got up early and went to the gym. After my workout, I went back to the locker room to shower and get ready for work.

I reached into my gym back, and pulled out two right-footed flip-flops.

I bring flip-flops to wear in the gym shower, because, well, otherwise.....ewww. I have this old pair of cheap-o vinyl-y gold flip-flops that do the trick quite well.

Yesterday morning, I had realized there was only one cheap-o gold flip flop in my bag. I suspected Sophie had something to do with that, so I went to the shoe cubby, and sure enough, found another cheap-o gold flip-flop in there, which I shoved into my bag.

Turns out, I have TWO pair of cheap-o gold flip-flops. I'd forgotten. They are not exactly the same, but similar. Cheap. Gold. And I had two right-footed ones.

And I had to go shower.

The prospect of going barefoot did not linger in my mind as a possible solution.

I grabbed the two right-footed flip-flops, and kept my running shoes on as I made my way to the shower.

I couldn't very well shower in my running shoes, so inside the shower stall, I slipped a flip-flop on my right foot. I stared at the other flip-flop.

I wished I had two right feet.

(It would have been smarter to just wish for a left-footed flip-flop, since I'm wishing and all, but whatever....I can't control how my mind works in these emergency situations.)

I shoved the right-footed flip-flop on my left foot, maneuvering it and cramming it somewhere in the middle of my toes. It felt unnatural, but it was on. And I could shower.

I actually got used to it by the end of my shower, and it didn't feel quite so foreign. I sort of felt like an idiot walking back from the shower to my locker with my dual-right-flip-flops, but the mission was accomplished and I didn't have to sacrifice my feet to some germy, bacteria-laden experience.

Now I'm thinking I should invent some uni-foot flip-flops.

Million dollar idea, no?