Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Mis-matched shoes



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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