More on Cold Feet

We have a lot of snow on the ground, and freezing temperatures followed by slushy wet thaw, creating icy puddles everywhere during the day. A neighbor girl I occasionally babysit came over yesterday with cold, wet feet. She was wearing a pair of thin dress boots her mom got at a thrift store. Her mom is broke. I wanted to get her a pair of warm boots, and went on a search yesterday. I visited or called eight different stores, all of which were completely sold out of kids snow boots in Girls Size 3. Big 5 Sporting Goods had one pair left for $30, and they weren't that cute. I guess February after a snow storm is a bad time to be snow boot shopping.

I decided to try again to find boots in the morning, and hit the hay last night. Despite being quite tired, I couldn't fall asleep ... I kept thinking about Girl's Size 3 Boots. Girl's Size 3 Boots. Girl's Size 3 Boots. Girl's Size 3 Boots. Girl's Size 3 Boots! Finally around ll:30, I realized that my obsession with these boots was my issue, not my neighbor's situation. I HATE COLD FEET! Hate them with a deep and earnest sincerity. This thought process was exasperated by the fact that I just read a book about Earnest Shackleton's Doomed Expedition to the South Pole, in which he and a group of 40 men spent 497 days camping stranded on an ice flow and then a miserable outcropping of rock before they were rescued. They may have suffered malnutrition, fatigue, bad hygiene, and depression, but I worried most about their cold feet.

I must have bad circulation or something, because I remember dreading the walk to elementary school in Rexburg. It would begin with a bit of cold water seeping under my sock, progress to moderately cold, and then to feeling like each step was on a bed of nails, until my feet went numb. But that was only temporary relief, because when they began to warm up, they seared with red pain. Gabe may have the same affliction, because he cries every time we go outside.

The first year we were married, Jeff gave me an ice fishing pole for my birthday. I almost wanted to cry at the thought of going out on an icy lake for a few hours and sitting around a hole. How little did my husband know me!

Last year Jeff gave me really good snow boots for my Birthday. Waterproof, not slippery, fit well, furry on the inside. Nice looking. I really love them. It is amazing how much more I am willing to go outside just because I have good boots to wear.

Thus continues my quest today for the Girl's Size 3 Snow boots.