It's that time of year again! As the song says --
Wait! Just so you'll know. On the advice of my attorney, and for strict legal reasons that involve something or other, I'll be paraphrasing the song.
Oh all right. I don't really have an attorney. And I paraphrase because I can't remember the words.
Anyway, as the song from that movie about orphaned kids in London says, "Boots, glorious boots; hot leather and faux fur!While we're in the mood, snake belly and gopher!"
Now that I've regaled you with a song -- one that none of you recognize because I made it up -- let's get back to it being that time of year. Yes, it's time to buy boots, glorious boots.
I was out at schulershoes.com this morning, looking over their boots and shoes. They were really cute, and reminded me of something that happened recently.
Russ and I were in a shoe store, looking at winter boots, when I spotted this nice pair of black suede ones. With big, white snowflakes embroidered on them. And a stacked heel. They just looked so fun, hip, and cool.
I pointed them out to him, "Look, aren't these cute? I could use a pair for church."
Russ eyed them critically. "Would they fit? You know you have big calves, and it's hard to get boots up over them."
I sent a stare his way that would make a snowman shiver. "Not big calves. Well-formed, muscular -- but lovely -- calves. From all the exercising, I do."
He shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, so big, muscular calves."
Ignoring him, I took the beautiful boots off the rack. I slipped them on and pulled the legs of my jeans up to my knees so I could get the full effect of the boots on my feet. "What do you think?" I asked Russ.
He hesitated. "Well, they're nice-looking, but you remind me of someone." He paused and then said innocently, "Oh, I know. You remind me of the ladies in the city who stand on the street corners at night, looking for ... um, you know ... friends."
And now you can guess why I was online this morning, looking at boots and shoes. It's a whole lot easier when Russ isn't around to offer his opinion.
At this point, who knows when ... or if ... I'll find some that'll fit over my well-formed, muscular, lovely calves. But, it's bound to happen sometime soon. Right?
In the meantime, though, have a wonderful Thanksgiving Day. Enjoy the feast. And don't forget what it says in that Christmas song, ""Ever body knows a missile and some turkey toes, help to make the seasonings right."
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Author's note: If you enjoyed this mostly true story -- with a little bit of
"Boots, Glorious Boots" © C.L. Beck.
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