the only person who would dare to snatch my one and only pair of boots, my brand new boots, on the first day that i truly need them (as there was at least 4 inches of the white stuff on the ground), leaving me to scamper around the house, finally finding my mom’s 20-year-old, ankle-high duckboots – meaning that now, with COLD and wet feet and wet pants, i get to drive an hour to work.
while she? she is wearing my quilted and lined $90 boots, probably sweating in them.
and i won’t get them back until tuesday.
sometimes, sharing just isn’t an option.