Shoe Phantom
Growing up my dad would often lose track of his shoes and slippers. After an exhaustive search throughout the house the query would eventually come:
“Where did those kids put my shoes?!”
Of course we would just roll our eyes thinking to ourselves, “yeah, as if we ever touch them.” Well, now that I have kids of my own I’m beginning to think his speculation had merit.
Dang kids…always runnin off with my dang shoes. Marsh! We’rd them kids put my shoes?!! Son of a buckin outfit anyway!
Well, as we can see, the answer has been revealed to us through Adam’s genes. I always knew he was the one who was taking dad’s shoes. I was sworn to silence. Adam once told me that taking dad’s shoes was better than the excitment he gets when he sits down with a twelve pack of Old Style while watching the Cubs try to break the .500 mark.
And all this time I thought I was losing it Don’t worry Adam, as you get older it gets worse. He He. Sure is a strong grandson holding up those big clod hoppers.
Now that you kids are all grown up and out of the house, guess who gets the blame for everything Dad loses – the dog! Poor Paschal (of course, he is the culprit from time to time. However, he is not capable of locking the keys in the truck as has happened recently!)
I guess I can say this now…when she left home…I hope I’m not getting anyone in trouble here…Sr. Maria Kolbe took a bunch of Harold’s shoes to the convent. It seems the Mother Superier has large feet…sorry Sister…mea culpa!