When I was a child, I loved Halloween because we got to dress up and be something we normally were not. As soon as the sun set, we started our trip around the block. Mom and Dad lived in a subdivision that made a complete loop like a racetrack. So going around the block was our appointed path!
One of the most horrible Halloweens that I remember was when I set out in a pair of Mom’s high heels. My outfit was stunning, and I needed the pumps to make it even better. But what was I thinking? OH mercy. As my sister and I began our journey on the first leg of the block, I was looking AND feeling mighty fine. It was uphill, however, so I was glad to have that over with. When we rounded turn number one, the first heel blister made its presence known. Yep—it was a real bad one.
Not wanting to damage my look, I trudged on in the high heels. Now mind you, I wasn’t walking only around the block. We walked up to each front door and back down the driveway to the road. By the second turn, I was ready to scream. Every inch of my feet was in agony. Again, what was I thinking? And, of course, I had no backup shoes with me.
Do I take them off and go barefoot on dark roads? NO, for goodness sake. I am a complete chicken so I had no choice but to wear them for the second half of the journey. There could be something awful on the road, and I sure didn’t need a cut.
The next long stretch was downhill. Now that sounds relatively easy, right? Maybe if you were jogging in tennis shoes, but in high heels it caused my toes to shove down into the pointed end of the shoes. Oh my gosh. I don’t even think I left the road to go to a house. Candy? Who cares—I needed intensive care.
The next turn, and I was in the home stretch. I was bleeding and was completely out of my mind with pain. Finally we made it home—abused feet and all!
To this day I live by the rule: comfort is everything. I can remember many events in my life where I wished I had worn flats. When I wrote the book Honey, It’s All in the Shoes!, I was thinking about the different kind of shoes I had worn in my life and how they marked many occasions. But never did this experience ever cross my mind until today. And it all started with Halloween.
My sister was a little bear and wore her tennis shoes. My brother would not be seen with us but opted for buddies as his companions. He came in with a pillowcase of candy as he had found his way to a zillion houses. Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever trick-or-treated again!
I hope you got a bag full of candy or handed candy out to cute little ones. The innocence of the day has disappeared, and children can’t be turned loose in just any neighborhood anymore. But dressing up is always fun—just wear flat shoes, trust me!