One of the downsides of my retirement from high school teaching is that it makes me more out of touch with youth and with what they think and do.
Yesterday, I was wearing my ‘go to’ shoes of the summer. They are Croc slip ons, have a bit of a favorable insert, and are light and comfortable. They also provide me with way more support than the fancy flip-flops I had been tooling around in. I love the flip-flops but I must say that for these orthotically-inclined feet of mine with a tendency for a bit of genetic bunion, a malformation due to a tiny bone break I had in 9th grade that my mom wouldn’t take me to the emergency room for, and arthritis in one of my big toes, I need support. After all, I do have two sets of orthotics specially made for me due to foot and ankle problems!
My daughter-in-law looked at my feet and said, «You know, don’t you, that high school kids call your shoes ‘Dad shoes,’ right? »
My first reaction was to think, I’d better get rid of them.
My second reaction was, wait, I am an almost seventy grandfather and perhaps wearing ‘Dad shoes’ is not so much of a bad thing.
As I go through my day, I see countless elder statespersons wearing the ubiquitous white leather athletic shoes with a bit of scuff and for some reason I find it a badge of way less than cool. Do I really want to look cool? Perhaps not, but I certainly don’t feel like belonging to that group.
I am happy with my Dad shoes and as long as they continue to provide me with the support and comfort they do, I am wearing them. So there…
Now, shall we talk about Dad bod?