Dad comes out of his bedroom after getting dressed to go to
town. Jeans, t-shirt, denim button up over shirt, mismatched shoes.
Dad, your shoes don’t match.
He looks down. Pauses, grabs his ball cap and pulls it
around sideways. They match my outfit! He does a little dance, with a dramatic
ending complete with outstretched hands and a ta da.
Alright then, let’s go to town. By all means, matching shoes
is the least of my worries. Dad is in a good mind. Mom is getting a break
today. I get one more moment with my dad. Matching shoes is the least of my
thoughts.
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