Well, it finally happened. Dave and I have had THE talk.
I wasn't prepared. I came home from coffee with a friend, sat down to take my shoes off, and he was on me.
Dave: I just can't understand why you still wear high heels! The vanity value certainly can't outweigh the danger!
Lorna: splutter, gasp, wha?
Dave: Sweetheart, this is a really serious issue. What if you should fall off those shoes and break your hip?
Lorna (to self): I think I would have to play dead.
Dave: We'd both regret it,
Lorna (again to self): but you'd be right!
Lorna: I've worn high heels since I was 13 and I've fallen in them maybe 6 times in my life. That's 56 years of pretty good tottering.
Dave: Sweetheart, I don't think you should take this lightly. You have and can find lots of attractive shoes with flat heels. (overturns shoe and points out the difference in weight-bearing surface)
Lorna (to self) fifty-six years! 6 ankle-turns, come on!
Lorna: I only have 3 pairs of heels left, these which are about an inch and a half high, (scoffs), my shoes from Spain which are made of butter-coloured leather, and the ones I wore to Emily's wedding, which are pale blue and silver and sparkle even in the daytime!
Dave (very effectively) just looks at me.
Note to Emily: swing by the house there may be something you like
Note to Self: buy a shadowbox and display those wedding shoes somewhere.
Further Note to Self: put aside some shoe-shopping time in the spring.....