Walking in Someone Else's Shoes

Animals are great. They protect your house. They lick your face when you cry. They eat food you don’t want to eat—okay, they won’t eat brussels sprouts, but they will chow down on just about anything else. However, there is a downside to pets. Excretion issues. Personally, when I take the dog out, I keep my eyes on the ground. But not everyone does that.

My husband, whose thoughts are no doubt are on celestial things, frequently brings an odor with him. I say, “Euw, check your shoes.” He moans, groans, and scrubs his shoes. But, he hasn’t figured out how to avoid the problem.

However, my twelve year old has found out the best way to keep dog poop off your shoes is to wear someone else’s—particularly his 18 year old brother’s shoes. This afternoon, Matt brought the dog back into the house, held up Luke’s shoe, and said, “Hee, hee.” I looked up and said, “Oh, my!” This was seconded by Ariel and Jacob as they caught sight of Luke’s shoe. Luke, who up to this point had been engrossed in whatever food he was currently devouring, looked up. There was a moment of blank silence. Then, Luke’s face contorted into something akin to what the Cyclops must have looked like when Odysseus shoved a pike into his one eye. Luke drew in two lung-fulls worth of air and bellowed, “I will kill you!”

Matt tossed the shoe and ran. Luke yelled, “You are cleaning off that shoe!” A bit scuffling occurred until I explained to Matt that he’d better clean off Luke’s shoe. Matt took the shoe to the kitchen sink. At which point, I screamed, “Take that thing outside!”
Eventually, Matt came back complaining that his hands were completely numb—apparently they were so cold that he’d even stuck them into the fireplace to warm them and couldn’t feel the fire. The shoe, I believe, is currently “drying” outside. I haven’t asked where the other shoe is or what it looks like…I don’t want to know. In the meantime, I’m hiding my shoes!