It’s raining again in NS – have to admit to a secret liking for it today as the sun makes me feel I MUST be outside and saps my energy – this cool breeze and gentle rain is more to my taste in many ways, at least today.

So I have to take the dog out.  He is in serious need of unbouncing after two hot days of us lolling about sipping cool drinks. I put on his useless raincoat for a trial – it does exactly what I suspected it would – annoys him, lets the rain through, and clashes with my outfit. It’s red, you see, and I am dressed like Smurfette. Blue shirt, blue pants, pink raincoat, and these blue shoes, grabbed for $9 at a local Canadian Tire.

They replace my pink mock Crocs, which had an unfortunate conflict with lots of paint when I wore them to paint my garage in Westport, with the help of my wonderful friend, Bob. Gruesome job.  We ended up completely covered with paint, the lawn was covered, too, and we were exhausted, but the garage looked like it would stand for a bit longer when we were done, held together with latex.

I had pale pink mock Crocs cos I was too thrifty to buy the real kind in a decent colour.  On their little dial, instead of a crocodile, there was some other creature, as yet unidentified. I bought them for gardening and walking the dog in wet grass.

Which is why I bought these – plus the idea of going to the beach in them.

I was in Canuck Pneu looking for other things and idly wandered over to the sandal area. The dog has eaten my sandals, you see. And I needed a pair I could actually walk a ways in, rather than show off my feet in. And I’m tired of my little LL Bean lookalike rubber shoes.  They are hot.  And I need to wear socks with them. And the dog has chewed them, too.

There was one pair of these left – the right size. I heard a voice in my head – my dad’s voice. “Remember, children, your father is cheap.”  He used to say this whenever we’d head, en masse, into a restaurant.  I remember him offering a prize to the kid who cost the least. My sister always won, but then she LIKED the prize, a “song sung especially to her”. Personally I would have rather eaten well. Which explains a lot, actually.

So I avoided the pricier sandals and grabbed these ones. They fit, and  they meet the requirements. Can be worn to the beach, or out to walk the dog in the rain. But they are definitely cringeworthy.

Mind you, I find them a bit endearing, for all that. I think Crocs are ugly, too, just more expensively so.

They even have little sad faces on them!  And worried foreheads. Like they know they could never be Crocs, but heck, they are trying to be acceptable. But, like me, they don’t take themselves seriously. And with every step, I can hear my dad laughing.