Walking In My Shoes

One of the things I learned quickly living in the north is the difference in how we dealt with shoes. I'd always kept my shoes in the bottom of my bedroom closet. Because so many of the months up here have us walking through slushy, icy, salted, icky stuff, everyone takes their shoes off as soon as they walk in the door. You don't want to track that stuff throughout the house. A few years ago, we bought this small shoe rack at IKEA, and I embraced keeping our shoes by the door. This rack was definitely preferable to the pile that ended up there anyway. On half of the top shelf, I keep a large basket for Sera's shoes.

She, however, thinks it's much funnier to put them in my old knock-off Crocs. Whenever I see them, I will bellow out asking what is that inside my shoes. Wherever she is in the house, I can quickly find her because the belly laughs are deep and loud.