when is enough . . .

a couple of weeks ago, I bought this adorable pair of espadrilles.

 

They reminded me of Joseph's coat of many colors.  I love them.  Of course, being ensconced in flip flops for the last umpteen years, I promptly fell off them in the middle of Target, with of course, an audience but never mind.  I love them.

I love them so much, that I looked them up on line and they come in tons of colors.  I started to salivate.  I started to twitch.  I was overpowered with covetatious emotion.  Yes, I made up that word.  I restrained.  That is until Tuesday after dinner at Carrabba's. The 9TS suggested a walk through the mall to assuage our full bellies and appease our guilty brains.  And there was Dillards.  And there were my shoes.  With their shoe mates.  All in a row.  Staring at me.  "Buy us!", they squealed.  "Take us home to our friend.", they demanded.  "You love us.", they coaxed.  And what was I to do?  They were pitiful.  The salesman profound.  The 9TS grinning.  I was dead meat.

 

And now I have to clean out my closet and divest myself of the remainder of my office shoes that are pushing 15 years plus to make room for my new best friends.  I can hear them partying in there now.  "oh we belong to a mutual . . . la la la . . . admiration society, my baby and me . . ."  they are singing their hearts out.  Who am I to interfere.