Poor Soles

They were a bargain: $2! They were a gift from my daughter. Wearing them reminded me that she could shop like her mom - that made me proud. So when I traveled last winter, I stuck them in my carry-on so I could trade off my winter boots for these next-to-nothing light weights for balmy weather Texas trompin'. It was a whirlwind trip forged from a desperation to see my grandchildren, our eldest daughter and son-in-law. Three days later I got home, unpacked, and my prize shoes were gone...! Looked through my stuff, couldn't find them. One thought raced on the heels of another. I've had things "disappear" in airports before. But who would ever want to steal such poor sorry soles as these? How easy it is to assume some one did something when we can't explain what we've done! People with alzheimers often assume some one has stolen their mislaid change purse, wedding ring, dentures! Nope, those shoes couldn't have been stolen! Two weeks ago I found them. Tucked away in the small zippered exterior pocket right where I had left them!
Sometimes, when people don't respond or act the way we think they will - or should - it's easy to assume the worse. These poor soles taught me a lesson: the culprit just might be me!