Hmmmmm, so THAT'S where I left it. Think they'd send it back if I asked nicely? It gets old hopping around on one foot.
Kids nowdays complain about the weakest things, so I point out that it hasn't always been this cushy. When *I* was young we didn't have our mommy to drive us to school, no sir. We walked. And it wasn't some pathetic little one-mile jaunt, it was ten miles to school and 15 miles back home, and uphill both ways. And we did this after the morning chores. Mine was to milk the moose. Did we have a bucket? Sheer luxury! Of course not, we used a spoon to capture the milk, and walked it from the shed to the house, 1/4 mile away through waist deep snow. And we were grateful for the spoon. Our poor neighbors next door used a tiny moose turd receptacle fashioned by smashing a thumb into a turd held in the palm of their hand. Their morning cereal always had a peculiar aroma. Of course we didn't use much milk on our cereal, it was too hard to come by. So we used sea water instead. Not having a bucket, we would walk to the ocean and stand in the surf until our pockets filled with water, herring were an occasional treat. Then we would wait on shore for it to freeze before walking back home. Uphill. When the chores were finished we would share the shoe and walk to school, my brother and I. We had just the one shoe so we would trade off and hop. Of course this led to rather advanced wear, as you can see from the picture.
Oh, and don't tell my mother, but this was our good SUNDAY shoe. We always liked the way this one shined in the candlelight.