When my daughter, Holly, and foster son, Misha, were graduating from high school, I dressed in a green dress, but couldn't decide which pair of shoes to wear with it. One was a black patent leather pump and the other was a tapestry-type shoe with a green wedge heel. So I put on one shoe of each pair and asked Misha which looked better.
"The black," Misha said.
Okay. Question asked, questioned answered, decision made. End of story. I finished getting ready and we left for the school. Since Holly had attended this small school from the age of 3, we knew everyone there and they all knew us. I was walking around, talking to my friends, trying to avoid weepiness at this commencement of a new life for Holly and Misha, when I noticed Sally, the accountant for the school, taking photos of my feet and laughing. What . . . .?
I looked down at my feet and actually shrieked! I still had on a shoe from each pair! Did Holly, Misha, or my husband, Ray, notice this when we took pictures in front of the house? No! Did Ray notice as we drove to the school? No! Did I notice? No! Incredible. Two totally different shoes and I didn't even feel an uneven heel height, nor did I notice one green shoe and one black one.
To make things worse, I couldn't even remain safely hidden among the audience once we were seated. Noooo! We were asked to come to the STAGE. As we walked the length of the gym (suddenly it was much bigger than previously), I felt sure EVERYONE noticed my mismatched shoes. I blushed, then thought, "Well, I've been involved with this school so much for so many years; everyone already knows I'm crazy." So I shrugged, laughed and pointed out my foot wear to Holly's best friends as I climbed the steps to the stage.