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Rated: E · Article · Comedy · #1315156
This is another short article from the book I'm working on My Happily Happhazard House.
The Shoe Hunter
March 19th 2005

In my best Crocodile Hunter voice:
“Today Bowys and Gurhls, we are going to venture out into ferocious swamp bedroom territory!  Everyone be very careful as we march over the mountainous terrains of piled laundry, toys and the occasional swamp hanger.  Today, we are searching for the elusive Mama Shoe!  Mama shoes are very territorial creatures, they are hardly ever found together in pairs.  Instead, they prefer to be alone and away from their mates, so be on the lookout as we trek onward towards the bathroom and closet!”
“OH- LOOOOKIE  boys and girls…THERE SHE IS!  CRIKEY she's a big one!  A large black open-toed pump is hiding there- under that wet towel!  Do you SEE her?!  She's alone of course.  Like I've said, two mama shoes together is BAD NEWS!  You'll never find them together in the same closet, or room even, as they would fight to their deaths, ripping each other's tongues out in a violent display of fashion cruelty!!  Okay everyone stand back! I’m going to rip through the laundry, and wrestle her onto my foot!”

Okay, so this must be true, I have to believe it MUST be.  Every day I do this theatrical Steve Irwin Crocodile Hunter episode for my elusive shoes.  I can never find my shoes together which is strange because I swear I take them off at the same time.  Indeed, I am a self-professed scatterbrain but I know that I don’t kick one off and then think to myself, "No...no, not both of them, not yet.  Just, one for now.  I want to save the other one until later, when I have nothing to do again.”  I mean, come on.
This means, though, that instead there is some other reason for them winding up apart and that sometime after they are both off, they begin to sneak away from each other.  I imagine it’s sometime during the dark of night.  They creepy crawl away from one another to the dark hiding places that I will hopefully find them the next morning…or the next, or the next.

Editorial notes: 
Upon sending this story to my mother, she commented that maybe I should keep my shoes together under my pillow at night.  Well… frankly, I just don’t have the space under my pillow.  What with all the other items I'm trying desperately to keep track of:  the TV remote, my hairbrush, the dog leash, our car insurance, the dinner recipe for 5 can chili, Josh's wallet- I mean, it would just be another hunt in a different location.  I noted, though, that I did need to do something.
Bill Cosby once did a stand up routine where he spoke about how parents are driven to the brink of lunacy by their kids and just spout off crazy rules.
         "Mooom, she's touching me"
         "I am not- YOU were touching me!"
And then some adult yells something like
"NO ONE, is to touch ANYone in THIS house, EVER- AGAIN!"
I did that.  I said something just like that, only it was more like this:
"Okay,.Everyone!  When you get home from school, or work, or WHERE- EVER you’re coming from…when you take off your shoes, we will now have a bowl of rubber bands on the counter.  Are you listening?!  We are now going to rubberband our shoes TO-gether..from NOW ON!"    Josh, my husband, casually raised an eyebrow and looked at me out of the corner of his eye with that  "you have got to be joking" expression on his face.  True story, ask him.
My mom was then surprised to learn that my hunting goes on for other family member shoes too. 
"Oh yes!"  I say.  “It isn't just mine that stray away, the kids’ shoes are frequently not together either.  But, it never happens to Josh's shoes. For some reason, his are the only shoes that don't run away from each other. 
In the shoe-animal kingdom, contrary to female shoes, male shoes are not territorial apparently. They prefer not to hide, but rather to be seen.  Out in the open in fact and TOGETHER I might add! Sometimes right in front of the door, and other times right smack dab in the middle of the living room floor.  This must be instinctual to them in nature, to be out in the open, because I continue to trip over them time and time again no matter how often I scream about it.
It wouldn't matter though, if they were hiders. They give off a very pungent aroma. It’s so strong, that I believe I could find them under a pile of Crocodile doo if I had too.
© Copyright 2007 Dianne Chaucer (chaucer at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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