|The Seattleite’s flip flop.|
This just in: It rains a lot in Seattle. Also breaking: Water is wet.
You know how in the summer you keep a pair of flip flops by the door to slip on whenever you need to run out of the house? For ten months out of the year rain boots are the Seattleite’s flip flops.
But rain boots are about more than providing a slip on cushion between the street and your feet. They’ve also got to keep your feet dry and provide good traction on slick surfaces. Add those extra practical considerations to the fact that boots can be pricey and you can see why I’d want to put a bit of thought into purchasing new rain boots.
That’s exactly what I did last night after I discovered a crack in my beloved wellies:
Me: “My rain boots have a crack. I’m going to order a new pair.”
Husband: “Okay. That sounds like a good idea.”
Me: “You’re saying that like you’re giving me permission to buy them. I’m not asking your permission. I’m telling you what I’m going to do so that as my life partner you’re aware of the gripping events that occupy my evenings.”
Husband: “I know. I was just responding to what you said in a way that sounded more supportive than, “Whatever. I don’t really care about your shoes.””
Me: “Don’t say it like that. This isn’t a Carrie Bradshaw thing. This purchase has practical dimensions. I legitimately need rain boots. But if I’m going to shell out for boots I’ll be wearing a lot I want them to be flattering as well. Do you know anything about Hunter boots? I’ve heard rumors that their quality has tanked but I really like how they have such a classic look with a trim fit around the calf. Or maybe I’ll get a high gloss black pair of below the knee Kamiks… They’re cheaper but maybe they won’t last as long. What do you think?”
Me: “You’re not being very helpful. It’s as if you’re not emotionally invested in this conversation.”
Husband: “On the contrary, I’m very emotionally invested. I feel so choked up and overwhelmed that I have to leave the room now.”
This morning I discovered that my go to pink waterproof trench coat has started to flake at the collar. I’ll try to involve my husband in a conversation about that the next time I really want some alone time.