I have a parka that I literally only wear when I go camping. You probably aren’t going to see it here, even though it’s hideous and faded and misshapen, because then what would I wear when I went camping?
(I know, you’re going to say what about one of your other seventeen parkas? But you see, I LIKE those parkas. I do not want to be worrying that I’m going to get molten marshmallows all over them, or that they will come home smelling like charred animal flesh and Fireball, which BTW are the only two good parts about camping IMHO.) It’s my backup camping parka, and if you can’t understand that, there’s no way in hell you’re going to understand my backup snow boots.
I have had these boots since I lived in the snow. I left New York twenty years ago this summer, which means I bought these boots before Justin Bieber, Mehgan Trainor and Ariana Grande were even born. (Lindsay Lohan was in first grade, and even she’s aged better than these boots.) The insides have been worn raw; the outsides are even worse.
BUT WHAT IF!
What if there’s an icy mudstorm, or a muddy ice storm, and I need to… do something in it? What if someone breaks into my house and steals my beloved Joan of Arctics (that’s really what they’re called and IT COULD HAPPEN, plus I told you how shifty my housekeepers aren’t are?), or I leave them somewhere (I’M NEVER LEAVING THEM ANYWHERE)? Huh? WHAT IF???
WHAT IF costs me a lot of money and heartache. It’s why I bought two of the same dress, and the identical top in five different colors.
But WHAT IF I just decide to declare that SNOW BOOTS ARE MEANT TO GET DIRTY and then I (gasp!) get on with my life?
I’m going to try it. Because I once* gave my husband shit about wanting to save the “good knives” for company, which was silly because I wanted to use them.
So long, pretty pristine snow boots! At least you know I’ll love you long-time.
XO
Jenna
*and by “once” I mean I nagged him nonstop until he said “will you stop talking if I say we can use the @$(!& knives? #TrueStory
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