Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Bridget on Shoes

Weight: x+16 and growing....left-over pizza in the fridge?  Yes please!

I firmly believe that my death will be caused by high-heels. 

I refuse to wear anything that is less than 3.5 inches high (at least out in public - and out in public included walking the dog, a funny picture when you remember that I walk my dogs in my pajamas).  In fact, it's walking my dog in high heels, specifically, that I fear will kill me.

My dog likes to loop herself around trees, take a step off the sidewalk into the street, and in general not mind me.  One of the streets we walk on has been known to have fast-moving traffic.  (In fact, Sandy and I walked past a motorcycle cop with a speed gun this morning.)  Sandy doesn't seem to be bothered by the traffic and still loops around every tree, street post, "Now Leasing" sign, and sprinkler that dares to spray her.  I follow her so as not to have to take her off the leash and lose what small semblance of control I have over her. 

One day, the perfect storm will occur:  Sandy loops around a tree, I follow her, I slip in recently-sprinkled grass due to high heels, my neck falls under car tires.  Eek!

I've lived a good life.  Let my tombstone read "if only she had been 5'8" without heels."

1 comment:

  1. I'll remember that quote and promise to put it on your tombstone if you die in such a manner.

    Did I tell you that I always thought I was 5'8", and only recently found out I'm 5'6"? Some doctor years ago must've measured me in heels. Or perhaps I'm shrinking. Scary thought. Anyway, so now I'm bringing on the heels, as well. :)