I Blame the Flip-Flops

My son just kissed me good night on his way to bed. It's a bit late for an eleven-year-old to be going to bed, but he's been doing a noble duty: cleaning the kitchen.  He and his dad cleaned up a very messy kitchen while I sat on the couch and watched TV.  The kitchen was awfully messy because I baked today. I was excused from clean up because...

• a) I tried a new supper dish and it was a keeper.
• b) I made two, count 'em two pies for dessert.
• c) We had a v-e-r-y long v-e-r-y tedious day of school or 
• d) I had an injection in my heel today and I'm supposed to stay off of my feet this evening.

If you guessed any of the above, you'd be correct!

It all started way back in July during Vacation Bible School at church.  I love VBS week.  I enjoy the weeks leading up to it as well because I get to spend lots of time on a project that, unlike many in my season of life, has a beginning,

a middle,

a definite end,
and it didn't have to be done again the next day!

After the backdrop is complete, VBS begins.  This year the base of operations was the Fellowship Hall.  It was a perfect place for the opening of VBS, the closing of VBS, and the music (and the craft area, and the snack station...).  For all of its tropical appeal, this collection of gussied up cardboard never left the Fellowship Hall.  Never. The same could be said of me, well, not really.  I went home to sleep and eat and enjoy my kiddos and my niece who joins us each year for the big event.  Its a tradition. It just wouldn't be VBS without her!

During the month of July, I spent an awful lot of time on that rock-solid tile on the floor.  That wouldn't have been a big deal except that for nearly 100% of that time, my shoe of choice was the flip-flop.  The flip-flop, one of the staples of summer, is surely a harmless shoe option. It's easy on, easy off, cool feet, cool colors, easy on the wallet, showy for the flashy polish on the toes.  Here at the Wright Place, we hold flip-flops in high esteem. Kate got very creative with hers this summer.

While singing with the VBS kids and perhaps bouncing up and down on my flip-flops just a bit in the "Rainforest" with the tile floor, I may have done some damage to my feet.  I chose to deal with the pain "like a man" and ...IGNORE it! This was a fine strategy until I began to realize that my peppy stride had become a grimace-filled shuffle.  A grimace-filled shuffle which would not be fun to walk next to if one were, say a ten-year-old girl at the mall, or a five-year-old girl at a mall, or an eleven-year old boy on the sidelines of a football field.  

My pace was perfect for pushing Molly in the stroller. In fact, the stroller was necessary as my walker to survive any shopping at all. 

It began to hurt each day like someone had taken a hammer and beat my heels with it and then said, "Keep up with those precious kids today now, go, go, go!" My morning trips to the coffee maker were getting longer and longer. I began planning meals according to how long I had to stand up to fix them. I let the laundry go because I had to go up and down the stairs to accomplish the task (OK really, we ALL know that I let the laundry go all the time, it just sounds so much better to have a real excuse!).  It was simply TIME to take care of the feet.

I'll take you to the doctor with me for the next post. 

Fear not, there are NO actual pictures, just my mental ones!