Day 72
Mrs. Snowman came home from work today and flew at me like I’d confessed to setting fire to an orphanage.
And the reason for her displeasure?
One of the boxes I threw out after the chimney incident contained a selection of her shoes. Before I explain further, you should appreciate that this particular box has been hidden under a huge pile of crap for at least a year. There was no way I could possibly have known its contents without a team of forensic scientists.
She’s brought them back in and was lining them up against the wall.
I realized I should have known better than to ask but I could bite my tongue no longer.
“What was a box of shoes doing under all that trash?”
She sighed and addressed me patiently like a teacher explaining algebra to a confused child.
“It’s quite simple, they were put away until I needed them for the summer”
“But you never wore them last year, in fact I don’t think I’ve ever seen them before”
It was at this point she started to get angry.
“You don’t expect me to walk around barefoot do you?”
If Mrs. Snowman put her entire shoe collection on Ebay they’d need to purchase a couple of new servers to handle the extra bandwidth so the chances of her walking around with nothing on her feet is virtually impossible
This episode is the cornerstone to one of modern life’s most perplexing mysteries.
Why do women have such a fixation with shoes?
I suspect I’m the same as most men in the acquisition of footwear.
I have two pairs of shoes: a black pair and a brown pair. These sit next to a pair of cowboy boots while two pairs of Nike sports pumps complete my entire footwear collection. In other words, something for every occasion, nothing else is required.
When they have disintegrated to a point where I can see my toes through them, I throw them out and buy some more.
There are times when Mrs. Snowman wears this amount in a single day.
I don’t mean that she has ten legs and wears them simultaneously but she changes her shoes several times over a twenty-four hour period.
And my God she’s got a lot to choose from.
Every now and again she produces a box, blows dust off the lid and opens it to reveal another pair.
I think it might be some kind of perversion.
Anyway, even though another box of crap had been brought back into the house, it was not in a place where it would hinder the decorating and I therefore had no option but to continue with it. For once I was not unhappy about this prospect as it meant I didn’t have to spend the rest of the day listening to the wife prattle on about her extensive footwear collection.
I shut myself in the room and carried on with a newly found purpose.
By midnight I’d got a tremendous amount done but hadn’t managed to access the computer to play any poker. Mrs. Snowman will be at work tomorrow so I have no excuses not to try and kick off the bankroll again.
When I finally gathered up the decorating equipment and sat in front of the TV with my laptop I noticed my Dearly Beloved had been surfing the Internet as a number of new sites had appeared on the browser history.
And what had she been spending her time viewing?
You’ve guessed it.
She’s bought another pair of fucking shoes.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $0
And the reason for her displeasure?
One of the boxes I threw out after the chimney incident contained a selection of her shoes. Before I explain further, you should appreciate that this particular box has been hidden under a huge pile of crap for at least a year. There was no way I could possibly have known its contents without a team of forensic scientists.
She’s brought them back in and was lining them up against the wall.
I realized I should have known better than to ask but I could bite my tongue no longer.
“What was a box of shoes doing under all that trash?”
She sighed and addressed me patiently like a teacher explaining algebra to a confused child.
“It’s quite simple, they were put away until I needed them for the summer”
“But you never wore them last year, in fact I don’t think I’ve ever seen them before”
It was at this point she started to get angry.
“You don’t expect me to walk around barefoot do you?”
If Mrs. Snowman put her entire shoe collection on Ebay they’d need to purchase a couple of new servers to handle the extra bandwidth so the chances of her walking around with nothing on her feet is virtually impossible
This episode is the cornerstone to one of modern life’s most perplexing mysteries.
Why do women have such a fixation with shoes?
I suspect I’m the same as most men in the acquisition of footwear.
I have two pairs of shoes: a black pair and a brown pair. These sit next to a pair of cowboy boots while two pairs of Nike sports pumps complete my entire footwear collection. In other words, something for every occasion, nothing else is required.
When they have disintegrated to a point where I can see my toes through them, I throw them out and buy some more.
There are times when Mrs. Snowman wears this amount in a single day.
I don’t mean that she has ten legs and wears them simultaneously but she changes her shoes several times over a twenty-four hour period.
And my God she’s got a lot to choose from.
Every now and again she produces a box, blows dust off the lid and opens it to reveal another pair.
I think it might be some kind of perversion.
Anyway, even though another box of crap had been brought back into the house, it was not in a place where it would hinder the decorating and I therefore had no option but to continue with it. For once I was not unhappy about this prospect as it meant I didn’t have to spend the rest of the day listening to the wife prattle on about her extensive footwear collection.
I shut myself in the room and carried on with a newly found purpose.
By midnight I’d got a tremendous amount done but hadn’t managed to access the computer to play any poker. Mrs. Snowman will be at work tomorrow so I have no excuses not to try and kick off the bankroll again.
When I finally gathered up the decorating equipment and sat in front of the TV with my laptop I noticed my Dearly Beloved had been surfing the Internet as a number of new sites had appeared on the browser history.
And what had she been spending her time viewing?
You’ve guessed it.
She’s bought another pair of fucking shoes.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $0