Do you agree that when you've met a certain suitor in the past, you could sort of squint your eyes and imagine how your life might end up as that person's partner in, say, thirty years? I think footwear was a big cue for me when I met Lovey Loverpants in August 1999. He was rocking the red Cons and I was so smitten. Surely a college boy who would rock the cherry Chucks had a penchant for sport and whimsy. I was not misled. Had I met him when he was wearing ratty sweat-stained slippers? There's a strong chance we might not be bunkmates today.
I really have a phobia of ending up a wearer of bathrobes and slippers on Saturday nights sometime in the future. My grandparents used to take alllllll day to get dressed, Granny in pin curls and a pink bathrobe, the smell of bacon and eggs wafting throughout the house, coffee stained newspapers scattered across the table. I think this was their slice of Heaven on earth, though. But it's just not what I'm going for, not even as we welcome a Wee Lee into the fold.
Because we live a pretty active life, the prospect that we'll continue to live an active life remains a sort of non-anxiety for me as we become parents. I'm really eager to do cool stuff with the kid, especially as a family. Skating, skiing, spelunking, whatever. Even just paint-by-numbahh on a Sunday afternoon. I'm looking forward to it - the wide-eyed discovery, the hearkening back to When I Was Your Age We Had Cameras Where You Had to Wait More than Five Seconds to See the Picture You Just Took, the cacophony of laughter when Papa John includes a sketch of Dunkin' Donuts in the coloring book with police officers and firemen. I think it's going to be a good time.
In other news, Lovey placed an order for four pairs of the following. It's never too early to stock up. The family that plays together [with matching shoes] stays together.