An Appeal for Shoes

Rose Wellingtons from Victorian Trading Company

I am not obsessed with shoes. I'm really not. I have a closet full of very high heels that I wore daily up until, oh, say, the last trimester of my pregnancy, and none of them have been worn since. It's hard to glide around with a baby in a sling and heels. For me, it's impossible. I literally wear either ballet flats or cowboy boots every single day. If you know me, you know this is true. 

However, I have wanted this pair of Wellies since Christmas, when I saw them in the Victorian Trading Company's catalogue at my mother's house. They are not for everyone, but they are for me. I'm pretty sure I would actually mow the lawn and work in the garden (the one we've been planning but have never grown) if I had these boots. If I had these boots, I wouldn't be scared of those creepy furry white and green worms crawling onto my ankles while I kneel in front of our flower beds. I shudder just thinking of them. I wouldn't have to worry about grasshoppers or crickets or whatever the heck those things are jumping up and latching onto my shins while I mow the lawn. And Don wouldn't have to listen to me ask him to fetch things for me from the garage each night because I'm too scared to go in there since I have been the victim of water bug attacks on several occasions. And, as you know, there is no insect more terrifying than the water bug, bigger than a roach, angrier than a bull. Those things KNOW how ugly they are, which is why their best self-defense mechanism is to charge at your bare feet with full-force.  Nothing can make me scream and jump up and down and run into the house and jump onto the safety of our bed faster than being charged by an insect. 

Which is why I think I should order these boots. What do you think, Don?