Shopping For Prison Shoes

The other day I was shopping for shoes with the boys. After picking out shoes for them, I tried some on for myself. I slipped on a cute pair of cream coloured sandals, then spent some time twisting, twirling and admiring them in the mirror. Gabriel was oohing and ahhing, so Isaac came up beside me to see what all the fuss was about.

 “Hmmm,” he said. “Those would look great on you in prison.”

 I paused, mid spin. A young sales associate was making her way up the isle towards us at that very moment, and she paused too. Our eyes met, and she quickly looked down, busying herself with her pockets as she slowly began inching away.

 I grinned and picked up a pair of the same pair of sandals, but in black.

 “Would these be a good pair of prison shoes too?” I asked with a wink.

 “YES!” he exclaimed.

 “Then I’ll take both!”

 The sales associate vanished. I have no doubt that the store now has my picture on file, tucked safely away with all the other sketchy characters that they keep track of.


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