heels v. husband

 Armed with groundbreaking evidence said to clearly convey the defendant's giddiness over a set of newly acquired back-to-school Banana Republic fitted vees
(thus indicating his condoning of legitimate wardrobe-enhancing purchases and exposing a case for high-heel-directed hypocrisy), 
prosecutors are pressing the court to deny the defense's extension request and resume its proceedings.

camera phone=successful sneak attack on unsuspecting victim that I will, without a doubt, be in trouble for posting here


In light of this development, the court opted to postpone the trial for 24 hours, citing the need to evaluate "whether the photo-in-question offers such compelling, conclusive evidence that it cannot be denied the court's consideration even at this late stage of the trial."


There's no question they'll rule in favor of the prosecution, determining said photo as both permissive and pertinent to the case.


Nevertheless, I'd like to take this time to dispel any and all rumors regarding the details of the case of Heels v. Husband on behalf of my client, which is, coincidentally, myself. 


The court transcripts from day one of the proceedings are as follows:


"Mrs. DeMille, to the best of your memory, please recount to the court the events of Monday, July 25, 2011."


"I'm not sure if I can Your Honor.  It...it just all seems so silly."


"Mrs. DeMille, may I remind you you're under oath?"


"I realize that, it's just..."


"High-heel-directed hypocrisy is a serious offense Mrs. DeMille.  As is shoe mockery.  To trivialize the issue with such words as 'silly' not only undermines your case, but undermines the entire ideology driving the success of the retail industry as well.  We are aiming to save an economy.  Other women, other wives, other victims...they need you to tell your story." 


"Ok, ok...simmer down sparky.  No need to go all Law & Order on me.  I'll tell the story.


I came home from the first day of my second week at work in a bit of a frenzy.  To top off a day riddled with failed Thanksgiving flight searches and piles of projects to be written in a language still foreign to me and on a device that's developed some sort of cancer of the machine, I hit traffic.  Loads of traffic.  The same traffic I hit every day on my way home from work because of fender benders caused by a bunch of crazies who can't tell the brake from the gas.  I'm nearly convinced everyone driving between 9000 S. and the 215 is incompetent."


"Objection.  These are irrelevant details Your Honor,"
the defense interjects.  He's thinks he's so smart.


"Sustained.  Mrs. DeMille, please focus on the purchases."


"I'm nearly there.  When it's your turn to testify I'll let you determine what is and is not relevant, thank you."


"I..."


"I know, I know. K, so I arrive home from a little ditty of a day and think, 'Oh my goodness!  In less than a week-and-a-half I'll be leaving town for my best friend's wedding.  
Flight, check.  
Bridesmaid outfit, check. 
 Jewelry, check.  
Sanity, check...ish.  
Heels...nope.  
Negatory.  
Definitely don't have heels yet.'  


As I'd learned my lesson in procrastination the last time...
apparently shoe shopping left undone til the night prior means a last minute trip to downtown SLC's Wally World to wrestle Wal-Mart People's shim of the year for their last pair of super-classy $2.50 white flip-flops...
I decided to be proactive and get looking.


I realized the futility of a solo-search just minutes in.
I am incapable of making a purchase without a second opinion.
I know this.
Everyone who knows me knows this.
What am I doing?
redirect.
new approach=chelsey + 1


I needed another person.
easy!!!
I'll just go grab...I mean call...no, no, no g-chat....message???


huh.
who?
good question.
i hadn't quite thought that through.


so I asked the logical questions.
who is accessible?
with a definitive opinion?
that they'll honestly express?
who won't subconsciously sabotage me because they want to ensure they have the cuter wardrobe?
or sexier-looking legs that day?
who won't sugarcoat the truth?
or worry so much about hurting my feelings or insulting my taste that it takes us 10 years to make a definitive decision?
who won't make me feel cheap for trying to be economical?
or spoiled for splurging on the pair I really love?
who will be real, quick, honest, and willing to help me narrow 500+ options to just one
...maybe two?


'Chels?  Chelsey??? Chels!  

Can I help you with something?'


The answer became clear just as soon as my vision did.
I'd been staring at him the whole time.


'You sure can sweetie!'


His eyes shift ever-so-slightly toward the computer screen.
'I was being sarcastic,'
he says wryly.


'Too late! You offered.'


We bickered for about the next 10 minutes as to what it means to make good use of one's time versus how couples grow in love when spouses do the I-don't-really-want-to-do-this-but-I-will-because-you-asked-and-because-I-love-you types of things for each other.


By the end of said conversation I contended with the passive aggressive, 'Imagine all we could have accomplished by now!  
We'd be finished!  
It's that easy.'


To which husband responded, 'Right?!  I'd have finished my chapter and you'd be entering the credit card info for the cutest pair on there!  We should try it.  
Next ten minutes.  
Ready...go!!!'


Another pair of shoes worth of this tug-of-war of words and I had the love child of a teenager's eye-roll and a tactless hint-dropper's heavy sigh for my co-pilot.


sure, he didn't fit all my criteria.
but he fit about 70%.
and the most important 70% at that.
I can't picture Parker trying to beat me out for sexiest-looking legs
or worrying my purchase might strip him of his title for cutest shoe collection.
bahahaha.
could you imagine?
honestly, if either of those happened I think I'd be investing my shoe money in marriage counseling.
that can't be healthy.


and so the shoe-shop began.
And, Your Honor, if I may,
I'd like to turn the court's attention to exhibit A.
I think these bits of dialogue tell the reader's digest version of the story better than I ever could."


"Proceed."


"Ladies & gentlemen of the court...exhibit A.  
Nothing further, Your Honor."

"Rock-a-bye baby, in da treetop..."
"What are you doing?"
"I'm just singin' da baby to sleep in its wicker cradle-basket."
"It's called a bassinet."
"...when da wind blows! da cradle-basket will rock."
"That's not even how it goes..."
"...when da tree breaks!  da baby will fall.
Babe...oh babe.'
his worried tone mirrored by the clear concern in his eyes 
'I don't think the baby's gonna be okay!  
Those wicker-baskets aren't made to withstand that kind of impact!'
..............
'Who sings this kind of song to children?!" 

"Cliff-jumping at Lake Powell."

"Free the pandas! Free the pandas!"
"It's not even black-and-white."
"Have you ever seen a black-and-white bamboo cage Chelsey?
I didn't think so."

"I wonder how many belts we could fit around your ankle..."

"Ooo...a dandelion!"

"Do you think it would cost more to fix your broken ankles or convince the cops you weren't working the street-corner you were waiting on when you broke them?"

"It's the slide from the Treehouse Play-Place at the mall!  
Go little guy, go!"
He uses his fingers to run across the screen and zip down the slide with a "wee!!!".
(yes, the sounds effects are included.  nope, no batteries necessary.
want him?
he's all yours.)



"The poor, shaggy dog can't even see!"



"Torture chamber. Stick 'em in the tub and you're all set for waterboarding."
"Baby!"
"Okay....
Too heavy."
(cue heavy sigh)

"Corn-u-copia!"

 "Think of how much cooler it'd be if we just glued real butterflies to the shoes in your closet. Their wings'd be flappin' all crazy all day."
"They'd die Parker."
"And then they'd be just like these shoes.  But free..."
"You are a sick child."




"If only sailboats ran over cheetahs every day.  Then we could all be trendy."



"How fast do you think the little guy can make it up the cargo net?"
(The little finger human squares up to the starting line.  I quickly scroll on.)



"There aren't even words for this.  
It's like a chameleon swallowed a blue otter pop and a little stuffed animal all at the same time.
It' so wrong."
He shudders.  



"It's either an ugly hotel lamp shade or a hula skirt.  
I can't make up my mind."  
"You could just say it's ugly."
"But it's so much more than that..."
"Is it really?"
"No. 
No you're right.
It's just ugly."

"Fracket: The straight-jacket for unruly feet.  
This is the next Snuggie.
No question."
(We already have the subject for our infomercial!  
You know the Snuggie commercial clip that immediately induces anxiety?  
The one where the grandma's wrestling down the vicious killer-blanket seemingly hell-bent on strangling her?  
Here's our anti-freedom-for-feet-for-our-own-and-the-public's-safety poster child.  
Be advised...the wobbly ankles cause a real "foot-for-all."  
It's one of those moments that's almost too painful to watch.  
No, no I take that back.
It's really fun to watch.
Just like the grandma fending off the Satan's pre-snuggie spawn.
Enjoy.)

"seadoo! woooooo!!!"
(Insert engine revving noises here and Parker jumping his imaginary seadoo over my shoulders, head, chest, elbows, chest, bicep, chest, bridge of my nose, etc. etc. etc.  He seemed to focus his attention on those places with the best "wake."
I smashed the seadoo shortly thereafter.
After a few more half-hearted jumps
he decided not to invest in repairs.  



"The phone!"
(In reference to the MMS I'd sent him earlier in the day.

"I think it's down to these two unless I order online.  Which do you like better?"
"Not the phone-looking ones on your right foot."
"Phone-looking. okay..."
"They look like a phone."
"Yeah I got that. I just don't see it."
"Just don't buy them."
"Okay crazy...by the way, your new shirt looks like a blender."
"That doesn't make sense."
"I realized that.")

"Fat zebra!"









"It is an insult to dads and grandpas everywhere to put these shoes on stilts."



"And this is an insult to rodeo clowns." 
"I know honey.  They've suffered enough."



"Park!  Look!  This one's got the same disease as the barnacle-people from Davy Jone's ship on Pirates."
"Oh baby..."

"Oh and look!  Pilgrims!"
"Sweetie!"
"What?!"
"It's okay."
"What's okay?"
"You don't have to try so hard."
"I'm not trying. I really do see it."
"Kind of like how you saw the phone?"
"Oh you are kidding..."
"It's okay babe. This sort of thing doesn't come naturally to everyone.  That's why it's a gift!"
"You are such a wiener sometimes..."
"There are worse things than wieners Chels."
"Oh my..."
Parker snickers.
I try to dismiss him.
He tells me he's having fun.
I tell him to leave anyway.
He doesn't leave.
I continue to try not to laugh at his jokes 'til finally
finally
we find THE shoe.
or should I say shoe(s)?
Does it count if you order two pair with the intent to take one back?
nah...



Hallelujah!
success.
a few squabbles over personal interpretations of the phrases "great deal" and "awesome discount," two returns, a million-more second opinions, and one rush order to Reno later, we had 'em.
in that shade.
in my size.
in time for the wedding.


check.
check.
check.


Next time I'm going to Wally World.


the end.


Note: Just because I did not consult you about the shoe purchase does not, in any way, immediately slate you as a potential candidate for any of the above unsuitable-second-opinion-giver categories. Okay?  Okay.


P.S.  I devoted an inordinate amount of time to a fairly insignificant shoe squabble when we have SO much to cover.


still to come...
graduation
gym buddies
Lake Shasta
Girls' Camp
new friends!
Fourth of July
old friends!
Lake Powell
Lagoon
one best friend's mission!
two best friends' weddings!
my brother-in-law's super-cute fiance!
the new job I'm absolutely in love with
and so. much. more.


stay tuned...


and oh...
it's so good to be back
:)