Wednesday, November 14, 2012

walk way

I have a vivid memory of crawling out of bed, and tip toeing over to a small shoe box, that was on the floor of my bedroom, containing new shoes. The box was right under the nightlight in my bedroom. A Donald Duck nightlight, that bathed the entire room in an orange glow. I uncovered the box, and carefully pushed the tissue paper to the side, so not to crinkle it, and be discovered, and stared at my beautiful new shoes. I remember sniffing them. Ah...that new leather smell.

 They had a small little heel, as Mary Jane's do, and I wanted so badly to sleep in them. I could see Donald Duck's glowing face, in the reflection of the shiny patent leather. You could even see his blue ribbon, dangling from his little hat, in the toe of the shoe. They were just breathtaking. I couldn't wait to get them on my feet. 

Molly has a pair of red sparkly shoes, from when she was 2. She is 3 1/2 now, and still crams her little biscuit of a foot into them. The sparkles are mostly gone, and the toes are so scuffed. I have replaced those shoes with pink ones, and even gold ones with little bows on them, but somehow, she unearths those little red shoes, and refuses to give them up. Some days, I am screaming at her, demanding she take them off, and put on her sneakers, but I get it. I know what she feels like in those sparkly red shoes. To her, they are magical. I suppose that is why I am still letting her jam her little feet into them. 

I have a few pairs of shoes from my days in the fashion industry. An old pair of Christian Louboutin's, and even a few pairs of Gucci's. One pair of gold Jimmy Choo's that defy gravity. I try, like Molly, to jam my post three baby foot into them, and can't believe I have gone up a full size and a half. How did I even walk in them? My girls love wearing them, and I cannot help but chuckle seeing them teeter up and down the hall in shoes I used to wear from a life that seems like ancient history. 

I just purchased some black sneakers the other day, for my new part time job, waiting tables, at Mullallys Clubhouse Cafe, at the Glen Brook Golf Club. If you haven't been there, by the way, GO! The place is a little gem! I have never waited tables in my life, and at the ripe old age of 41, I am adding this to my resume. The shoes are really comfortable. They were ten dollars, as I wouldn't spend a penny more for them.

 Not exactly shoes I would crawl out of bed to gaze at. But they serve their purpose. It makes me smile to myself, when I think about the life I thought I was going to have, and the one I got. The path that I thought my Gucci shoes were skipping down changed. It has veered a little, and some days, it surprises me. But you make plans, and life happens, and your plans go out the window. For me, that has been a very good thing.

I love my new waitress shoes. And I love the sparkly ones that accompany me on this trail. 

They are both magical.

1 comment:

  1. You might just find that waiting tables can be a very rewarding and surprisingly great part of your adult life. I know I did. Try To enjoy!