My take on the "shoes"...

IF you haven't read Steve's "Death by Fashion" blog post, the do that first and come back to here...(it's such a good read - he's an amazing writer...I'd read his blog any day...)

OK...So...I think it's time for a little "girl details" on this post. I love my hubby dearly - but there are some things he doesn't quite give you a clear enough picture about.

Steve working for this company has had it's benefits. Shoes has definitely been one of them. We've gotten way too many shoes. Not complaining mind you. We haven't had to purchase casual shoes for the kids hardly at all, Steve's been able to ask for things other than running shoes for the last year and a half, I actually own a couple of pairs of shoes. (I once went about 8 years before buying another pair of shoes - I'm a flip-flop girl or barefoot girl - shoes are NOT a necessity for me...yep, you heard, well "read" it here...I don't like shoes. They are annoying. They don't let my feet breathe. Flips are the way to go. However, living in the PNW has given me a new appreciation for these luxuries. Anyway - we've received so many that we've given away more than we've kept. There's just no possible way we could keep them all.

Last year, Steve was able to choose 3 pairs of Cole Haan's. I thought he was going to suffocate under the pressure at the time. He did pretty well. Remember - I'm not a shoe girl, so my excitement is not a true measurement of his success. So, when he came home telling me that he'd be receiving 16 pairs of womens shoes from Cole Haan...my first reaction was to laugh. Out loud. For a while. I knew this was torture. I could read it in his tone, his face, let alone his words. He was suffocating once more under the pressure. So what did I do? I called a few girls around church to ask them their shoe sizes. Steve was tortured that much more - feeling that he not only had to impress me, but now these girls who actually really like shoes. The pressure was unsurmountable for him.

so he mentions fashion boot camp, or shoe boot camp or something of the like. Please...what a crock! I had him spend about 5-10 minutes (which probably did seem like hours of torture) looking at the Cole Haan web site. I just kept saying - "Honey, just stick with simple heels. Basic. You can't go wrong. It's shoes. Girls love them. It'll be great. You'll do great." That's right - I didn't pull a Hitler dictatorship of shoe anarchy saying, "you will get this or you are a loser." No way - my man is more than capable (as the pics on his blog clearly show). Sitting at the Cole Haan site I pointed out a couple of pairs, maybe on 2 pages, and then had him look at the next couple and say which would be good or not good. (There were several that were clearly the wrong choice...but it was obvious even to him...).

When he came home, yes, I didn't bound and tear into the boxes when he brought them in the door. What he fails to mention is that I was making dinner. Kaylee was helping me cook. Plus I think (although I may be wrong though) I was talking Noah through homework, trying to find things around the house that started with the letter "S". I was NOT and I repeat NOT attempting to further torture my beloved. I was just trying to cook dinner.

So, the box comes in - he's tortured and I dig into the box. He was amazing! He succeeded! He picked fabulously! I knew the girls would go nuts! I picked up the phone and called Chele to come pick up the shoes of her choice. When she put them on, Steve was totally freaked out because Chele was actually normal height. I wish I had a picture of us together. I didn't get the camera out. Oops. Anyway - Steve kept telling her to take the shoes off because it was too freaky. Not her wearing the shoes, but the height it gave her. She was only about 3-4 inches shorter than me (with me wearing no shoes). Anyway - she loved them. Duh! Of course she did. My man did an amazing job.

The next day I carted off to work with shoes in a giant box. I posted an email to the staff. This is where I should really let Brian Condello put his two cents worth in. It wasn't long before my office was filled with girls oooh-ing and aaaaahhh-ing over shoes - it was so stereotypical of what you'd expect to hear - gasps of joy and excitement - oh those look great - you've got to take those - I don't have anything to wear with them, so I guess I need to go shopping - seriously, I can have these? - they aren't exactly my size, but I'll make them work - those are amazing - and on and on and on and on... I sat proud. My man had made all these girls smile (and on that day we needed a little bit of a pick me up...you can see that post next, I think, about John Stumbo...).

So babe...you have a gift! A gift to choose women's shoes. I know you don't want to admit it. I know you just took a hit to your manly-ness...but you're good. And you did just as well with the handbags the next day...way to go babe! Regardless, you, my lobster, always make me smile, always make me proud - even if you are carrying 16 pairs of heels... I love ya!! (and, that's the rest of the story...)