The Gaping Hole

Whatever will he do?

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Do NOT look down.

When Trevor passed the midway point of his walk, he noticed a tiny hole on the top of his right tennis shoe, where his big toe rubbed against it. Because of a weird toe growth, the big toe protruded more than the others. Left foot, no problem, but that big toe on the right foot was a problem. Always had been.

No, don’t look down. Caroling’s tonight and we’re supposed to wear jeans and tennis shoes. Only pair I have. No time to run to the store. What will the other carolers think? Will they think I’m too poor to even buy a pair of lousy sneakers? Who cares what they think? Don’t look down, Trev. Hole’s probably the size of the Vesuvius by now. It’s getting bigger and bigger, I just know it. I wonder if toes catch cold. What a weird thought. Oh, I wish I had bought better shoes. Trevor the Tightwad. Only a little bit to go. Keep going. Don’t look down.

The drama in Trevor’s mind continued when he got into the house and told his wife about the shoe, though not the excessive worrying.

She looked down and said, “That hole? Seriously. It’s a pinprick. You’re such a baby sometimes. Besides, I went to the same place you got those and got you a second pair. Those are raggedy old shoes anyhow. Of course, they’re newer than those nasty jeans you insist on wearing everywhere. I’m surprised they’re not going on the walks by themselves, but I digress. You’ve worn those shoes for about three years now. Don’t worry, I checked. Exact same model as the ones you’re wearing so they should fit,” his wife said. “That is, unless your feet have gained weight.”

“Funny! You’re the best, Honey. Had me worried for a moment.”

Trevor breathed out a sigh of relief as he took off his shoes. Glancing down at his jeans, he thought, “Maybe she’s right about the jeans. Are they that old? True, I don’t wash them as often as I should. Can’t remember the last time.

His wife noticed him looking at his jeans for more than a second and said, “All right. Off with the jeans, Trevor. I’ll wash them before they walk away on their own, and then I’ll order you a new pair. For the caroling, though, you’ll have to wear them one last time. I just wonder if they’ll harmonize with the other people.”

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