When I was little we didn't go shopping very often. New shoes were quite the luxury. When we did manage to get new shoes it never failed.... within 12 hours I would be wearing them either out in the pasture or out in the lots and pens. Its not that I WANTED to get them dirty, its just that I would come home from school, get distracted by something I'm sure was reallllllly important and forget to change out of them.
I was sure that someday I was going to outgrow this.
Friday night on our way to watch the high school football game, we got a call from a neighbor saying that he saw smoke to the west of us and was just sure it was one of our pastures on fire. Wesley and I dropped everything and immediately went to check it out.
Although it wasn't our pasture (thankfully), it was a neighbor's and we felt obliged to help them out. When the first volunteer fire truck showed up Wesley hopped on, grabbed the hose and started spraying while I followed along behind and stomped out the flare ups that happened at every cow pattie.
Halfway through this exciting adventure I paused and looked down, actually absorbing what was going on and not just in an epinephrine overdrive.
My brand new, white tennis shoes (which I knew was a dumb idea) were no more. They were more of an ash-gray color and stinky from all the smoke.
Some things never change.
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Just like mama said... If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.