I bought hiking boots for our trip to Yosemite. Of course I said they were “also for snow! They’re snow boots!” but they weren’t. They were obviously hiking boots. They tied up around my ankles and had big rubber soles on the bottoms, and as soon as Kyle saw me trying to shove them into the suitcase he said, “You’re bringing hiking boots? To California?” (He said it this way because I am not what one would call a ‘hiker’. Kyle has seen me “hike” before – my version of hiking looks a lot like walking.)
“Yes!” I said proudly. “For Yosemite.”
“Are those going to be comfortable?” He asked a little concerned. “You know we’re going to be walking a lot.” Which meant, “I’m not going to tip-toe around Yosemite with you when your feet hurt because you wore those dumb shoes.”
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”
But what I meant was, “I did not buy these shoes because they were ‘comfortable’, I bought these shoes because they were cute – and HOW CUTE would I look wearing them in Yosemite?? When else am I going to have the opportunity to wear HIKING SHOES? YOU KNOW I DON’T HIKE.”
I don’t know why I bought those shoes. I mean, I know why, but… ugh. Anyway, now I have hiking boots that I never wear.