Skinny Feet

I dropped a shoe size.

In the battle of the bulge I’ve been fighting for. . .ever, that’s an interesting development. I found this out yesterday when we made an emergency trip to the shoe store to get new sneakers for my son. [When I picked him up from school on Thursday I noticed, to my utter mortification, that his toes were coming out of the bottom of his sneakers. The sole was half torn off and he never mentioned it. I guess it didn’t bother him. Kids.] Anyway, we ran over to the shoe store to get new ones, [and for my daughter as well who purchased the latest thing – sneakers without laces that look like they were sewn inside out with frayed seams. I used to wear my sneakers without laces when I was a kid and I was called a rebel. Now they sell them that way, along with the holey jeans she loves to wear. Kids.

Anyway, I figured since I was there, and since my DH, who likes to call me Imelda [he has no idea how many pairs of shoes a normal woman owns, btw – I have very few pairs compared to most of the women I know] since I was there I decided to buy myself a new pair of sneakers and a nice pair of flats to wear to the office. My regular size was floating on me!

Eleven years ago when I got pregnant with my daughter, my feet went up a size practically overnight and that’s where they’ve been since then. Now I had to go back down a size to get a decent fit.

I suppose that means my weight loss efforts [sporadic and half-hearted as they often are] have begun to work starting at the bottom. Hey, every little bit counts I suppose. I’ll take what I can get.

Now, I think I’ll go show off my skinny new sneakers at the supermarket! Woohoo- such is the glamorous life of a writer.