Lo, and God will smite thee for thy shoes.

My favorite Mother story involves shoes. Back in the day (college) my mom decided that I needed new shoes , and that she was going to provide them for me. She was generous in that she took me with her so I could pick out my shoes. The story goes like this:

One cold Saturday morning the Judybat and Old Man came out for a parental loving gesture. There was a basketball game going on, so Old Man was more concerned with that instead of the lunacy that followed. This was the time when the Rivermart was a mall and not a hotel. Old Man stayed out in the main hall listening to the game while the Judybat and I looked shoes.

Since I'm an extremely picky lady I slowly walked the store, conscientiously surveying the wares. I came to the Converse section. I love those shoes. Yes, that dates a person, but who cares? I looked for my color (black) and size. Great! My shoes were there. My Mother was dismayed. "Those are men shoes!" "No, look, mom. See? Men's, women's, and European sizes. It's ok. It's unisex."

Big mistake I used the "s" word. My first year at college she noticed a small hickey on my neck and treated me like the whore I was for the entire Christmas break. I think she was just jealous cuz my sexlife was great and interesting. Hers consisted of sex with only one man for a lifetime. YUCK!

Ok. So I walked around the ailse and noticed walking shoes. Great! The walk up KU's hill demands sensible walking shoes. I thought I was being smart, and that she would notice and compliment me on my very mature purchase. No. She was distraught now.

"I don't know what's wrong with kids these days. Girls want to look like boys. Men want to look like women. THAT'S why God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah." Notice the diminutive on the "girl" reference.

"Mother! I do not think that God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah just because I wanted to but these shoes!"

Please understand my volume levels. I started the statement out at a very strained whisper and ended in yelling it. I was also stomping across the store up to the counter and practically threw the shoes on the counter. I ended the tyrade with pointing at the shoes and yelling "I want to buy THESE shoes!" at the poor cashier. The entire store was staring at me and my Mother. She would not look up she just kept her head down and whispered over and over, "Just shut up. Just shut up."

I love that story. I have many, many, many more. It's kinda funny. She thought I was sleeping with everything. She probably thought I was doing things non-human. I wonder at what people were telling her about the dormitory I lived. You know all the orgies and drug parties. Well, ok. We did have those, but we were kids and no one got hurt. I wonder if she thought I had turned gay. I had been accused of that by straight and gay because of wearing things such as sensible shoes. I made many lesbians angry because I wasn't gay. False advertisement. I guess. I love ambiguity. It messes with people.