I need your help. Prince Charming and Nordstrom's are conspiring to have me killed. Seriously. Just look at this shoe:
As you know, my birthday is next week. Prince Charming thought it would be nice to treat me to a shopping trip to Nordstrom's to buy a pair of shoes. I thought it would be nice too, until I had to wedge my fat foot into this shoe. (To be fair, I have wide, flat feet. Think: Fred Flintstone.)
It took about 1.3 seconds to realize that the shoes were uncomfortable. Unfortunately, it took even less time to forget just how much they hurt my feet. I got caught up in the moment and the excitement of having fashionable, trendy, sexy shoes. Prince Charming promised to valet park whenever I wore the shoes . . . and I caved.
Okay, okay. It's my fault too. Prince Charming and Nordstrom's aren't entirely to blame. But its my birthday and I want to be fashionable and trendy and sexy. Just for one night. So, if you'll get me through a nice dinner without breaking an ankle, sprouting a bunion, tearing an ACL or suffering any other shoe-related bodily injury, I promise to leave BOTH shoes at the steps of the donation station on the way home.
Sincerely,
SEE
P.S. If you're planning one of those if-the-shoe-fits-Cinderella moments, please give me a few days before sending my One True Love around for the shoe fitting. My feet will be blistered and swollen and I'll need a couple days before I can get my fat foot into that God-forsaken shoe again.
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