Jesus Sandals

I am not the best at picking out my own clothes. In fact, I pretty much stink. As often as not, if I come home from a store with some clothing I've purchased, Lisa will look at it and say, "That looks terrible on you! Did you even try it on?" Honestly, I never try on clothes. I just go by how they look on the mannequins, and they always looks good on them. You'd think I'd learn by now that I don't have a mannequin's body. You'd think.

Of all of the attire I've ever purchased, though, the one item that REALLY drives Lisa crazy are my Jesus sandals. I purchased them very early on in our marriage, sometime in the summer of 1995. I think they may have been stylish then. Regardless of whether they were stylish or not, though, the biggest complaint Lisa had about them was not the style (though she didn't like the style), but that they were too big for my feet. "They look like clown shoes!" she said to me when she first saw me wearing them. Just like clothing, I hadn't tried these sandals on. I'd just picked up a pair of size 10's, which is the size shoe I wear. Apparently these weren't men's 10's, though. They must have been giant's sized 10's, because the tip of my toe barely comes up past the straps.

I could have taken them back, I guess, but I'd been wearing them for about a week when Lisa noticed them, and I really felt it wrong to take them back. So I kept them. "Don't worry," I told Lisa. "I didn't pay much for these things. They'll wear out in a year or two."

Except that I don't wear sandals very often. They don't go with my business suits, and I'm not hippie enough to wear them with blue jeans. I don't even like to wear them much with shorts unless I'm going to be taking them on and off fairly regularly because my feet tend to sweat in sandals. So pretty much the only time I wear sandals is when I'm going to the pool or the beach or if I'm just throwing them on to take the trash out or something like that.

So it's been 14 years that I've had these sandals, and every year Lisa looks at them, and every year she tells me that THIS year she's going to buy me some sandals that look right on my feet. And every year I have to tell her that these sandals are FINE, that I don't want any new sandals!

She's told me how bad they look enough times, though, that I have started to feel a little self-conscious about them, and on a couple of occasions I've gone sandal shopping. But I'm always amazed at how expensive good sandals are, so I've always balked and said that these will do.

A couple of years ago several people were pushing me to buy some Crocs. "They're great!" they told me. "They're comfortable, and they wash right off!" (These are the same people that have spent last winter trying to get me to buy a Snuggie). I've always felt like the little kid in the story "The Emperor's New Clothes" when it comes to Crocs, though. Those are some darned ugly shoes, and I don't see how anyone over the age of 15 could ever put those things on, so I've (wisely) declined to buy a pair.

So why am I telling you all this? Last night, after dinner, I took the girls to the pool for a couple of hours. When it was time to leave I slipped on my trusty sandals and felt my left sandal turn in an awkward manner. I looked down and the sole of the sandal had pulled away at the strap nearest the heel. The sandal was irreparably broken.

So now I'm going to have to go and buy some new sandals. I'm not sure what kind I'll get. I last shopped for sandals this spring, and it seems like half of the options were Jesus sandals, so maybe they're back in style. I'll make sure to take Lisa along this time, though, so that I get a pair that meet her approval. I don't need 14 more years of shoes that are wrong for my feet.

I promise you this, though: I won't be buying any Crocs!