The Footwear War

My husband is harping all the time over my running shoes. I love them because they are flexible and lightweight. When one pair wears out, I don't buy another pair until I can find the exact same shoe - that's how much I love them.
Stephen wants me to wear his footwear. He thinks women's footwear doesn't have enough support. We're talking about yellow, steel-toed work boots which would be like going for a walk with ankle weights. Now I haven't worn ladies heels in a quarter of a century but I think I draw the line at looking like Granny Clampett on the Beverley Hillbillies.
After the fall though, I may be forced to compromise and wear a different boot/shoe of his. These look a bit like walking boots - as in walking up mountains. It would be better if we wore the same size but I suppose they'll be the perfect fit after he buys all the other stuff to go with them - gel liners and whatever socks men wear in the bush to protect themselves from frost bite. And they definitely will fit perfectly into whatever those rubber things are that men slip their shoes into. I forget what Christmas he bought the super thick, super traction ones - anyway it was the same Christmas that he decided to buy me men's blue thermal long johns. That a friend gave me an official postman's hat - weatherproof out on the outside, quilted on the inside with fur around the face and on the ear lugs and ties under the chin because what was I thinking going around without a hat.
And then there are the Canadian naval ships that sail across my chest and the wrestling team jacket from my oldest son. There's a family debate over whether wearing a wrestling team jacket to the bank machine says "don't mess with me" or whether it is throwing out a challenge.
Personally, I like the 5 year old boy look - running shoes, blue jeans and a t-shirt.
I'm sure the next step will be to dress me up in florescent orange like my neighbour's seeing eye dog.