In the Bennett household, flip-flops are a summer necessity. My kids squeal with delight the first time the thermometer climbs even one degree above 60 because they know we’re getting close to flip-flop season. Gracie and Jack love it when their toes have been set free!
For me, flip-flops mean more nagging at the kids when they’re in the shower. “Scrub those dirty feet,” I am heard shouting on a daily basis on the other side of the door.
This year, however, the arrival of flip-flop season has brought with it some sadness and catastrophes. It began with Griffin, our dog. We rescued Griffin last October and although we love him (most of the time), he still has quite a way to go in the training and manners department. So, even as Gracie, Jack and I were at the store shopping for the cherished flip-flops for the 2011 season, I warned them that once purchased and brought home, the flip-flops have two options: 1) on your feet or 2) in the closet with the door closed. I knew flip-flops would be too hard for Griffin to resist.
Tragedy #1 occurred the afternoon of the first flip-flop purchase. Jack, thoroughly engrossed in playing his Wii, tossed off his new orange flip-flops onto the carpet. Like a shark smelling a drop of blood, Griffin zeroed in on one of them and off he ran to devour his treasure. As I walked down the hall from the kitchen I saw the tattered remains of a recently deceased flip-flop.
Tragedy #2 happened because Jack apparently didn’t learn from Tragedy #1 and because mommy is a sucker for a sad face. We went back to the store a few days later and bought Jack a new pair of flip-flops. Jack was happy. I lectured him the entire ride home on flip-flop safety. He nodded in agreement and promised he would adhere to the rules.
The next morning a decapitated flip-flop was found abandoned in the hallway outside of Jack’s bedroom. Bits of rubber led to the culprit. Griffin had struck again. Jack had taken his flip-flops off and left them on the carpet of his bedroom – just inches from the safety of his closet. Jack is now wearing Crocs.
Tragedy #3 was a much more expensive event and although it involved Griffin (just love that dog!), it didn’t involve his teeth.
While we were at the store buying Jack his second pair of flip-flops, I decided to buy myself a pair. Mistake! Although I strictly adhered to the rules of having the flip-flops on my feet or in the closet I now know why these flip-flops were only $1.99. They look cute but they’re very slick on the bottom. Picture this: mom walks the dog on a leash to prevent him from digging in the yard. Mom innocently steps out onto the back deck that’s wet from the afternoon rain. The rest isn’t pretty:
Griffin spots squirrel
Mom doesn’t know that Griffin spots squirrel
Griffin bolts toward squirrel
Slippery flip-flops prevent mom from gaining traction
Mom flies off deck and breaks a toe
Flip-flops go in the trash
Mom goes to the doctor
Now, because of my sore toe, the only shoes I can wear are flip-flops. Griffin is thrilled.