We were able to get out in a very limited way for a brief, social-distanced hike. Upon arrival at the spot, I immediately realized I forgot to pack my hiking boots.
Cheese and rice! Jiminey Cricke-tears!
Luckily, I happened to throw a pair of cheap “water shoes” into the trunk I bought a few years back, but infrequently put on my actual tootsies. They’re a life-saver if you like walking through streams/rivers and/or on rocky/corral-laden beaches.
I do this more than I’d like to admit… You know, forget one thing…
Never exactly critical, the item is just something you needed to make it all work. For dudes, at least, this is predominantly and predictably confined within the sock and underpants categories. For years, I struggled mightily to consistently remember to pack a belt in my gym bag. It never occurred to this caveman to house a back-up at the office… for… years. And, for a cubicle residing paper jockey, this could be devastating to one’s well-manicured office persona and lead to hysterical bouts of self-consciousness, psychotic attention to maintaining a semi-untucked dress shirt to hide the offense, but not all the way untucked!
Dear God!
What were we talking about?
Oh, yeah. Water shoes.
I forgot my hiking boots, so I slapped on the water shoes, whilst maintaining clad stockings.
Suddenly, I transformed into a ninja… no, a native american… no, no, no a lithe, jungle cat.
I bounded down the trail, light of foot and silent as a stalking predator.
Watch that puddle though, JR!
Squish!!!!!
Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!