I cried because I had too many shoes...

Hmm, a footnote to my earlier blog about Hand Me Down Shoes.
Get it???
A FOOTnote.

I kill me.

You know, I think I am glad that Grandma buys seconds of things. Grandpa smokes. And it bugs me. It's mean to speak of but things that go to them, things that sit in their home, their car, even bags of clothes for an overnight stay, come home with a faint trace of smoke on them. Then I rewash everything, and bitch about brushing off the dog hair.

So really, I rethought it. I'm lucky. And I'm glad the things I bought aren't being used. I'm sure I'd be uptight about their condition, stains, rips, any tiny imperfection.

And I'm pretty sure that my MIL had my number all along.