Just when you think the end of the so-called silly season is in sight, with the flurry of shopping and parties giving way to the dulcet tones of Silent Night, there’s more. If anything, the season really hits its stride just after Christmas. By then, everyone is properly in holiday mode and has had their annual fill of family arguments over mince pies, leaving little else to do but hit the town for nights of glittering excess.
I’m actually fine with it, but my feet beg to differ. According to them, it’s high time to retire the high heeled dress shoes, strappy mules and irritating rubber thongs and get back to wearing comfortable sneakers on a near-exclusive basis.
Well, feet, we’re just going to have to come to some sort of compromise, because Aunty Wendy expects us to scrub up for the family reunion at the club on Boxing Day, and Tracey has equally high expectations for the girls’ night out. Then there’s the trip to the casino on the big 3-1, and I have a feeling sneakers aren’t part of the dress code. Come January, we’ll get you some Dr Comfort footwear, or at least something with arch support.
What’s that? You don’t accept? Fine, I’ll sweeten the deal – let’s throw in a podiatrist appointment. Cheltenham should have at least one clinic with an opening in the first week of January, and if there isn’t one, I promise I won’t wear heels again until my birthday in April. Come on, feet, work with me here. Like it or not, we’re stuck with each other. In fact, I appreciate you a lot, and I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be able to wear shoes in the first place.
Maybe we could all stand to give our feet just a little more TLC. That way, they might give us what we want in return.