We were doing so well. There had been a slight swelling the past month or so, but nothing major. It was manageable. I was still frequently reaching for my high heels and had no problem walking around in public wearing capris or even – gasp! – a dress.
It’s been a warm spring, even without an internal space heater.
But then last Thursday happened. It started out like any other weekday; wake up, eat breakfast with Daddy, tidy the house a bit. But then Daddy left for work and I sat down to read my email and I put my feet up on the dining chair opposite mine and HOLY CRAP WHAT ARE THOSE?
They were no longer feet. They were now enormous rectangles dangling off my ankles.
And speaking of ankles, I was pretty sure I had a pair when I went to bed the night before. Nope. Not anymore. They went off to live in whatever land my normal-looking feet had run away to.
I gave the rectangles a couple jabs with my pointer finger, confirmed that they were at least still halfway alive, sighed a couple times, and continued on with my email reading.
Soon after, I got up and went upstairs to get cleaned up for the day. I had a couple afternoon appointments but they were casual, so I reached for my green TOMS and off I went; in and out of the car to run a few errands, pacing in the office while on the phone, up and down the basement stairs for a couple loads of laundry, back out to the car for my appointments, around and around the kitchen prepping dinner. It was a pretty normal, active day.
I love my TOMS. They’re comfortable without being too casual, cute and lightweight, and I can walk miles in them without even noticing. The color is great, a well-worn hunter green that goes with just about anything. For all of those reasons, they’re one of my favorite pairs of shoes to travel with.
I love my TOMS. But I think I said that. So you can imagine when I finally walked back upstairs Thursday evening to change into my comfies, looked down and saw what my swollen rectangles had done to them, how I felt: