Walking into a coffee house in a snowstorm with my fleece lined Sorel boots someone remarked to me that I had sensible shoes on, for the weather. I must admit that I probably looked like a tiny version of Paul Bunyan, prepared and reaching for a latte rather than an axe. I agreed with him that the going was easier with my footwear than with his.
Bu he didn't see me in Target for the last hour walking like Bozo the Clown, waddling deliberately and slowly down the isles of the store. He didn't see me planning my steps to reduce the amount of space I would need to travel to more effectively manage their size and heel slippage.
Given the right setting most of us look well prepared and wise. No one commented on my choice of shoes in the store. I think they were following the rule of "if you don't have something nice to say..."
Once I got out into the parking lot there was no contest as to who was thinking when they shod their hooves this morning.
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