OH MY BLESSED SOLE

David in his new shoes

I was preparing for a family wedding.

I had some dry-cleaning to be done and because my parents insist I put it with theirs I do so and therefore take their gift of the senior’s discount.

Of course being a single parent, who has been through a yard sale separation I take advantage of any possible savings that come my way.

Mom and Dad went to their regular cleaner but due to equipment problems he had to forward them on to the competition. Mother put the clothes in so she could explain how certain things had to be cleaned and what certain stains consisted of and so on.

As a part of the whole project, Mom and Dad were adamant, and correctly so, that my shoes needed new soles. I admit they were shot, so off to the shoe repair store I went.

The cobbler examined the shoes and suggested new soles but added the option of replacing the leather soles with rubber soles, the heels were fine so they could be left as they were. Now after being raised by such prudent parents, where a dollar was spent wisely, all I could think was what would Mom and Dad in this situation.

So in keeping with the issue of frugality I priced the rubber soles as opposed to the leather. The rubber was cheaper by about eight dollars. Then the cobbler also suggested rubber would last longer than leather in this climate and rather than being back to the cobbler in a year or so perhaps it could be stretched to two years or so. All thought out-or so it seemed!

Rubber soles it would be.

I took my ticket and told the guy that I would see him on the coming Friday.

I was quite proud of the whole event. At almost fifty years of age Mom and Dad's training had paid off, finally !!. This had to be reported back to headquarters.

I will always remember Dad's famous quote at the supper table one evening in his best Newfoundland South Coast accent "I had four girls and one boy, the girls are fine but that boy is a 'Hidiot'. A story that has found its' place in the book of family history treasures I am sure, and delights my sisters from time to time. But I do try!

So I call Father who is now eighty-three years old reporting in as proud as punch with respect to my trip to the cobbler.

I hardly finished the story when he interjects, "Rubber !! You can't dance on rubber. You'll be stuck to the floor! It's a wedding, I suppose you'll be having a dance!! ".

Well I nearly passed out!

So I thought "You're right skipper!"

I picked up the phone and called the cobbler, "Leather ol' man, put the leather on, hang the cost, it's a wedding!"

Now, to make a long story longer, apparently Dad obviously never relayed this detailed sole report to Mother.

I dropped by their house that evening for and when I went in the house Mom was in her chair doing her crossword puzzles and Dad was down in the TV room.

The wind was out of my sails by then so in a casual sort of way, as I was saying hello to my almost seventy-five year old, not so well mother, who, by the way recently went to the floor while dancing at her morning Seniors Clinic BBQ at the Pleasantville Legion. I reported on my shoe adventure.

"I put the shoes in Mom, I was going to have rubber soles but I think I'll go with the leather instead. It’s a few extra dollars, but what odds?".

Mom never took here eyes off the page she was on but said to me, "Going dancing are ya??!! ."

I'm sure there's a lot more that my parents know about me than I know about them. And the ‘Hidiot’ stumbles on through life.

David Jarvis

Oh My Sole

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