Right now, our basement is awash with ground water. I can't whine that it's flooded, out of respect for the many who need waders to navigate their basement. No, it's only wet with various deep puddles. You can't make it to the washer/dryer/clean laundry in flip-flops, though. You have to have full shoes on. Over the weeks, the wet, endlessly wet weeks, MWH's old mowing shoes have become the designated wading shoes. They sit on the bottom step, so you only need to slide your (wisely socked) feet in and slog around.
*If you happen to tiptoe in natural disgust, the insides of the shoes will let water in ... so man-up, and no tiptoeing allowed.
The Shoes at the Bottom of the Basement Stairs are my friend and my enemy at the same time. We became more intimate this morning than I had ever intended, though, when I had to put them on with bare feet. You might think this is no big deal --- unless you have seen our basement. It's more along the lines of ... dungeon. I've encountered many scary creatures down there: the legendary ginormous spider, the basement beetle, the occasional bird, and (I vow) the leavings of a snake. Not to mention the Grey People who leave their own evidence behind occasionally. Oh and let's not forget the 'wood beetles' that find their way in seasonally.
**What is a wood beetle? Ask your husband, since this seems to be a man term for tropical-sized-brown-crunchy-insect that looks suspiciously like a nuclear roach.
Thankfully, this morning, there were only my feet in the Shoes! No crickets, wood beetles, no spiders, and no snake poop. I imagined maybe a toad though, since one hopped across my living room floor the other day... and if I was a toad, those shoes would look like the perfect cozy napping spot! We're hoping for the sun to show around here soon, but it would take a Red Sea type wind to blow the basement dry anytime soon.