-----

Mmmmmm.... Snowclones!

-----

A store wants me to buy things and sometimes I want to buy things but most of the time I'm cheap and don't want to buy anything. I loathe shopping. I find no joy in it... unless I'm buying for others. Christmas shopping is very nice. I like that. Or book shopping. That's fun. Anyway...

I went to some stores last night and while picking up tissue for drippy noses and medicine for stuffed heads I saw some cute shoes. I perused the isles and started trying them on. When I could fit my boats into the cute shoes they were cramped. When I oggled the delicate arcs of the heeled shoes, tempted to try them on, they mocked me and wouldn't allow me to squeeze all of my foot in. Of only 4 pairs of shoes in my size, in the whole store, (that's a lot of commas and eliminating factors) only three I could barely fit. There was no way I would be able to walk around in them for any length of time. Blisters, corns, disfigurement, loss of circulation resulting in toes dropping off, gangrene, the ancient Japanese art of bound-feet anyone?

I turned to Huzband (the poor, bored dear) and sulkily said: "I feel like Cinderella's sisters."

Just like Drezelda or Anastasia or whatever her name was, I fully expected the shoe to sling-shot across the length of the store when my foot inevitably straightened despite the impossible u-shape.

Trying on a pair of cute tan pumps (low narrow heel, weaved-texture, tweedy) that I put aside for last because I wanted them to fit above all others (the superstitious side of me came out- good things come to those who wait- you know), it was the same tune different page. They fit nicely enough unless I wanted to stand. So unless I can hire or enslave some beefy men to carry me around day in and day out, the shoes were out of the question.

Me: I am a monster.

Huzband: What?!

Me: I don't need a costume. I will go as I am. A monster.

Huzband: Don't say that, you're not a monster.

Me: A large footed monstrosity, unable to wear cute shoes.

Huzband: ...

Me: (now mumbling incoherently) Roaming State St., Halloween night, 'Look! Look at my big feet! I am big foot!'

Huzband: [Exasperatedly says my name with a hint of censure.]