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Finish that sentence. If you know me and you know my luck, I would assume your answer is POOP. And you are correct. But the story has a twist…
For the last two months, no matter what tennies I have on, my feet seem to be an irresistable magnet to poop. Of course there is plenty of that in my own back yard. But my feet often drift to the outside. To the untouched. To the Poop of Unknown Origin.
The first I remember was in my neighbor’s yard. He has two dogs, so it was a no brainer that my feet would magically gravitate to the closest pile available. The one in the high grass that was obviously waiting in stealth mode for me to casually walk by.
It called to my shoes. It taunted them. It cast a spell on them until they could do no less than stomp right in the middle of the waiting bounty. “Oh MANNNNN!”
I made my way back doing the Poop Shoe Twist. You know the one. Take a step in the grass and twist. Another step and twist. Forget what the neighbors think. Just hold your head high and step twist step twist. “Why yes, I DO have dog poop on my shoe. How could you tell?”
That pair went on my front steps, waiting to dry for easy removal.
Then came the second pair. Just a week later I was pulling out of my driveway on my way to work. Oops! Forgot something! I left the van on the side of the street, just in front of my neighbor’s house. I got my lunch and flew back to the car. Slam the door, put it in drive and… sniff? Sniffff? “OH NOOOOOOO!”
Yes, my shoes once again fell victim to some Poop of Unknown Origin. I apparently stepped in a pile, flew into the car and put my foot on the brake as I manipulated the car into drive. It was on my shoe, on the floor board, the carpet and… did you know that brake pedals have deep DEEP ridges in them?
A second pair of shoes was placed on the front steps.
And finally, pair number three. My brand new stinking expensive Sketchers Shape Ups. I never EVER buy anything for myself. EVER. But I had been pricing these babies out for months and months. I received a significant check for writing and decided that I deserved a pair for my daily power walks. They would help my heel spurs and my posture. AND I had found them for $50 off!
So there I am, walking my poor arthritic dog. My dog who can’t squat to do her business anymore. I had my new Sketchers on. I actually thought to myself, “Ha ha! I am so smart! I am walking on the sidewalk instead of the grass so I won’t mess up my new Sketchers!”
That was when my dog chose to go potty. BIG potty. It dropped and I stepped. The other dropped and the other shoe stepped. Why would I expect anything less.
Three pairs of shoes were then taking refuge on my front steps.
Yesterday was the final straw. Just before leaving for work I sat by my dog and gave her a morning batch of arthritis pills. Rather than shove them down her throat, I hide them in everything from peanut butter to square cheese or deli meat.
That morning I had chosen individually wrapped square cheese. She rejected it. I forgot about it and used something else. When I subsequently walked to the front door I realized my steps seemed a bit, well, cheesy.
There is no more room on my front steps.
