Those Shoes.

Those Shoes.

I have a pair of huge, ugly, bright-white Manly Reeboks, which I have used only a few times, for an aerobics class I took LAST winter (couldn't wear street shoes in the dance studio).

I unearthed them the other day so that I could go work out, and John freaked out.

"What?! Those...those are hideous! Do you have ANY different shoes?"
"JOHN. This is my only pair of sneakers."
"But--"
"Stop, stop, don't even...Please?"

The conversation was resurrected today, when I mentioned that this afternoon while he's in class, I'm going to go work out (second time in two days! wheee!).
He swallowed. "With those shoes?"
"Yes. With THOSE shoes."
"You need a different pair. Seriously, I'll chip in and help buy them!"
"...You know, John, there are people in 3rd-World countries who have NO shoes."
"So, you should give those to them."