Death of a Sunday Shoe

I have inherited many traits from my dad. He's a great man, and I have no problem looking or acting like him. Of those traits is included my inability to throw things away, and to use items until they are completely unusable. I have clothing from fourth grade I still wear and holes in my socks.

Take for example, the Sunday shoe pictured below.


I have had these shoes forever! I have been trying since Sunday to determine just how long I've had them. I have documented use of them in a photograph from 2003, but I know I had them while I was still in high school because I remember wearing them to dances and to young women's. It is pretty safe to say I've had them at least ten years.

In the past year or so, the top sole has been fighting for its freedom from the bottom. As illustrated in the picture below, the white-ish/yellow-ish stuff along that seam is not filth and build up from years of use. Oh no, it is rubber cement glue! However, my shoes finally gave in.

Last Sunday was a sad day for me. I was getting ready for church, had finished brushing my teeth, had slipped my Sunday shoes onto my feet, came down stairs, gathered my bag and scriptures, got my piece of gum, when I noticed my left shoe seemed squishier than usual. I looked down to discover a large crack running from the top of the heal almost to the base. Doesn't look to bad, you might say?

To give you a bit better perspective of what I saw when I looked down at my beloved shoe, the picture below shows what a slight bit of pressure does. I stood there in total disbelief before I realized I had to come up with something appropriate to wear on my feet for church. Thank goodness for spray-painted black character shoes!!

These shoes have been all over the country with me and it is hard to believe the rubber cement will not be able to fix them this time around. I have concluded two things from my cracked shoe. Either I'm supposed to apply for a job at Grand Canyon, or it's time to buy new Sunday shoes. Anyone up for shopping?