I live in clogs but for a goodly while now I’ve needed a plain old pair of sneakers. Like, for years.
When you’re 6.5 to 7, depending on the brand, but a EE width, buying online is an exercise in returning the online.
Unless it’s Birkenstock. And even their shoes, I find you mostly have to go up a size from their sandals so it’s still not a sure thing.
Guess who makes sneakers now. Wildly overpriced, but who else would fit my feet? You just can’t do mud puddles with kids while in clogs. They don’t work.
The box came today. Upped a size.
I’m wearing the new hearing aids today.
I put on the shoes and wore them a bit on the carpet, trying them out, and finally made the decision non-negotiable (having been taught well by my mom that you do not walk off the carpet unless you’re keeping them) and, feet exploring their new surroundings, started doing stuff around the house.
My shoes. They made noises. I was trying to figure out why. The laces flopped against them with each step–who knew? But I wasn’t sure that was all of it and looking at them didn’t tell me what they were saying. You cannot lipread a sneaker.
I mentioned to Richard that they were making sounds and he said, All new shoes squeak.
?
So then I had to walk back across the house and around a bit more and there, in the kitchen: I heard it! That was a definite hamster type sound, ever so briefly. And another! Flappity flap (squeak!) Are everybody’s shoes this distractingly noisy? Since when do shoes make sounds?
I went back to him in triumph. I heard it! They do!
He looked at me, totally understanding/totally trying not to roll his eyes at my excitement over hearing something I hadn’t in decades.
“I’ve had Squeak Deprivation Syndrome!”