The Flip-Flop Miracle
We are well and truly home and settled back in Virginia. Zipped up the drive at around 7:45 p.m. on Friday night after 2 days of 12 hours of driving. I was so glad we stayed overnight in Lexington, Kentucky.
The kids were fantastic, as always, on these long drives. The southern route was beautiful, and it was so wonderful to spend time with the Kansas City buddies.
But, the highlight of the trip was definitely provided by Buds.
Buds has a long, sparkling history of travel mishaps. All of them now strike me as hilarious, though in the moment they provided him much anguish or frustration.
A partial list includes:
* Falling asleep when taking the bus home from his job in Delaware. At least one of the times he ended up more than a mile from home when he got off the bus.
* He has gone to the wrong airport to catch a flight, realizing the error too late to make it to the correct airport to catch his flight.
* He had a free flight, but missed the flight because he took the wrong part of the flight certificate.
* He left his keys at my mom’s house, which I realized after dropping him at the airport in Des Moines. He ended up driving home from the Midwest with us, which the children and I were thrilled about.
This trip provided my absolute favorite kerfuffle so far in our life together.
We stopped for gas about 30 minutes from Todd and Gina’s house. When I checked my phone, I realized I had 2 missed calls from Gina.
Called her back to hear, “I have a pair of someone’s shoes here.”
I had my shoes…
The children had their shoes…
Guess who didn’t have his shoes… Guess who had no shoes…
Of course, we were reluctant to lose an hour of travel time to go back for the shoes.
I had a pair of birks that could be unbuckled for when he needed to go into a restaurant or gas station to use the facilities, so we decided to just press on with improvised footwear.
Shortly after, Buds had to use the potty at a Starbucks, so we stopped.
He unbuckled the sandals as far as he could, and this is what he wore into the Starbucks.
He managed to make it into Starbucks and use the facilities and get his coffee. But it was painful in many ways, not least of which was my stomach from being doubled over with laughter.
Our next stop was at a truck stop, and I offered to go in and buy a pair of shoes for him. (Bless the interstate trucking system!)
Found an inexpensive pair of “shower shoes,” and bought the size I thought would fit.
They sort of fit, but weren’t exactly comfortable. Still, he looked awfully cute in them, right?
Here’s the crazy thing…The Miracle of the Flip-Flops.
Bless his heart, people don’t generally talk to Buds. They may exchange a smile, or a nod of the head, but he doesn’t break into spontaneous conversation with strangers. They don’t start a conversation, and he certainly doesn’t.
The flip-flops changed everything. They made him somehow seem more approachable, or possibly a little forlorn or downtrodden. Whatever aura it was that stopped people from talking with him, that aura was gone. Gone with his shoes.
He had a man trying to sell him him his car.
He was clapped on the back, not just once, but twice, by a tattooed, slender, chain-smoking West Virginian.
And he broke into a folksy vernacular I have never heard come out of his mouth.
Oh, and he referenced me as “her,” which he’s never done before.
As in, “I’ve kept her around for this long. Might as well keep her a little longer.”
When we were cackling at ourselves and the wonder of human interaction, Buds suggested that maybe there is no actual folksy vernacular in the world. It’s all just people trying to talk to each other in a welcoming way, but at the end of the day, in our own homes, everyone speaks with poised, perfect grammar.
That made us smile, too.
Another in the ongoing family storyline.
“Remember that trip when Dad forgot his shoes?”
