put your red foot forward

There are Red Shoe Days and then there are Red Shoe Days. The first being, days upon which red shoes cover pink toenails in hopes they'll bring luck to the day. The second being, days upon which red shoes call out from the closet, a silent alarm clock of sorts, which cannot be ignored. They match your morning mood of determination for yet another round of here-we-go-again. As your pink-painted feet hit the carpet you can feel it; Red shoes forecast the paths of a propitious day. Today was a Red Shoe Day.

I awoke with one of M's songs in my head. As my feet hit the floor, my red shoes sang back. Today, it was my patent pair, with the button at the toe. Perfect, I thought as I slid them out of their shoe slot and onto the floor until I was ready to step out for the day. Today was going to be a good day.

I proudly put the pedal-to-the-metal this morning on my way to an appointment, arriving ten minutes early. This never happens. I sat down with my book and crossed one knee over the other, patent shoes swinging in the periphery.

Two red shoes arrived at Trio, where the Trio becomes a deuce, as Nat and I catch up over lunch. Today we went out on a limb and tried the bread pudding, not sure if it would satisfy our salivating. It was, in short, amazing. Amidst walnuts, and red shoes, we chatted about what we always chat about (Nat, today you had some brilliant lines. Which, honestly, is nothing new).

Tile pattern selected and painter scheduled, red shoes skipped back to the car in parking lot at the slab yard. Errands are much more fun with red shoes. Trust me. Along my rouge-route, word came from E. Buone notizie! The best news yet. At the red light, rosso shoes were right in sync, tapping to the beat. And, tonight at the movies, red shoes went effortlessly up and over the seat in front of me, satisfied with the view from the top and happy to be part of a Martha Milestone.

Every girl needs a pair of red shoes.