Jan 14, 2019 3 min read

During the holidays, I get together with my cousins for The Great Gingerbread Contest. We start the evening building gingerbread houses. We use graham crackers, old iced tea cartons and leftover Halloween candy to build our holiday masterpieces. By the way, it’s not just houses. In the past, we have created bear caves, fireplaces, soccer fields, Santa’s sleigh, etc. One year, Todd and his daughter Amara created a Bob Ross figurine, complete with pretzel rod easel and a graham cracker canvas. Naturally, the canvas had a happy tree on it – painted on with green icing.

After all the gingerbread houses are assembled, we take photos and admire our handiwork. Most of the evening is spent eating, drinking and reminiscing.

Please note: There was wine.

This year, the event was held at Bob and Carey’s house. I got to their house a little early, but there was a heap of shoes in the foyer. I threw my Under Armor tennis shoes into the pile. There were Nikes on top of Adidas on top of Converse. It was a big shoe orgy – think “Eyelets Wide Shut.”

A week later, we gathered for a game night. In a group text, I received a message that read, “Bring Ray’s shoes.”

I texted back, “Who had Ray’s shoes?”

I did.

Apparently, I wore the wrong shoes home. I had them for a week and I hadn’t noticed.

Ray’s shoes spent a vacation in my gym bag, except for one night when I wore them to LA Fitness. That evening, I thought something was wrong with them. I was on the cycle and said, “Geez. I wore the tread out already.”

Ray’s shoes were older and more lived in than mine.

Ray’s shoes were dark gray with red accents. My shoes were light gray with orange accents. My shoes, however, had a big orange Under Armor logo on the side. I hadn’t noticed that the logo had gone missing. Logos don’t normally run away from home.

To be fair, I have 35 pairs of shoes. I have more shoes than any one dude should have. I’m the male Imelda Marcos (that’s an old timey reference).

On the night of The Great Gingerbread Build, Ray turned the foyer upside down frantically searching for his shoes … unaware that I had already worn them home. Out of necessity, he wore my Under Armor tennies. He wore them all week long, and he didn’t want to give them up.

When we did exchange shoes, my niece insisted that we have a side-by-side comparison. They didn’t look that similar. Not at all. But it was dark in that foyer, and they were size 12. I didn’t expect anyone else to have giant feet.

Elaine asked me, “When did you know you had the wrong shoe?”

I said, “When you said, ‘Bring Ray’s shoes’ and I realized you were talking to me.”

I felt like the Buddha, eschewing material goods. In actuality, I was just oblivious.

I wonder if these are my pants.