Duck Feet

Y'know that scene in "The Sound of Music" where the Mother Superior sings that warbly song about climbing every mountain and fording every stream? Well, I feel like singing that whenever I'm about to embark on a trip to the mall for a particular item. If I go to any store without a particular purpose, I almost always find something that I would love to own. Shoes, dress, earrings, etc. If, however, I go to the mall with a specific quarry in mind, it takes Herculean efforts to find it.

High-heeled dress shoes are a particularly elusive prize. The shoes themselves have strikes against them going in: they're egregiously priced and often inanely high heeled. Then I have strikes against me being the owner of said shoes: I'm accident prone, klutzy, and have poor balance (are those all the same thing?). I also have what the doctor calls "duck feet." My heels are a size 6 and the front of my foot is a size 9 or 10. Talk about difficult to fit. Heeled shoes tend to be narrow in the toes anyway, even for normal people.

But I'm not normal. *sigh*

Store after store, shoe after shoe, I frustrate shoe sales people. Different styles, different sizes and they all have different problems. Toes don't even get in the shoe. Toes have to be curled to fit in shoe. Heel falls completely out of the shoe if my toes do get in the shoe. If, by some miracle, my foot fits in the shoe, the heel is so high that I fall over as soon as I stand up. Hours go by. Finally, I find shoes. Expensive, yes. High heeled, yes. But I don't fall over, my feet stay in them, and they're the right color and style for the upcoming occasion.

Mission accomplished. Mountain climbed. Stream forded.

Shoes bought.