Saturday, January 7, 2012
In these parts everyone has Wellies. Now, let me just say, I don't call them Wellies, or Wellingtons, Hunters, or Rubbers. I've never met a Duke, from Wellington or otherwise. So I call them sewer boots sometimes rain boots when I'm trying to keep my origins on the down low.
At first I thought they were a fashion craze. I didn't buy into it. Mainly because we live in an arid, land-locked state and I couldn't see the point. Then I began regularly walking my children to school. The winter months in Colorado are notorious for major snow fall, followed by major sunshine. It's the runoff for which you need sewer boots. The dirt path to school becomes a mud slick after the first snowfall and stays that way until the last day of school. Now, I get it.
The boys don't get it. They wear them when they feel like it, and rarely when they are needed. You may catch Cooper in them on the way to swim practice on a cloudless, 90-degree day. But on the way home from school in mud up to his ankles? No boots. It makes for a long walk home.