Tongues, Feet, and Automobiles

"How many pairs of socks are you bringing?" I ask oh-so innocently.

Mike glares. He is starting to get unsettled about all of my questions about packing because, just maybe, I'm planning on borrowing one too many of his things. Besides me pulling out a hoodie from my bag when he said he was bringing one, I don't know where he got this preposterous idea. See, I needed real socks--the non-argyle kind--to go with my new shoes.

We went to Payless the other night to buy some sneakers.

"Why not bring your Finish Line ones?" Mikes smirks from the computer. My friends have never let me forget that the only real pair of tennis shoes or athletic wear I have is from the end of my junior year of high school, when I worked at Finish Line in the mall, a comic scenario enough. (I also worked at Dippin' Dots, and they remind me often). My shoes--Nike Shox--are barely worn. And pretty darn stark-white. This might suggest, to some, that I don't wear them.

"For the last time!" I shout from my dug-out spot deep in the armchair. "I demonstrated shoe cleaner! Shoe cleaner! I got a dollar for each bottle I sold. That is why my shoes were so nice, okay?" And, for effect, I mumble: "Shoe cleaner."

"Okay, okay," Mike says, waving his hands in the air innocently.

At Payless, there weren't many options for sneakers that had any decent support, so I wandered over to the guys' section and found a pair. It seemed like a waste to spend $30 on sneakers for me because, let's be honest, I didn't sell a lot of shoe cleaner that summer.

"Let me try," Mike said. He put the shoe on and it fit him, too.

"Perfect!" I declared. "We can both wear it." I swallow my words as soon as they're gone. What husband, really, wants to be reminded that his wife shares his shoe size?

"Yeah," he said, then a small smile emerged. "Yeah."

After hitting Bed Bath & Beyond, Wal-Mart, Rack Room Shoes, and the back, we skimmed the rest of the Exton mall and shared a GAP dressing room because I thought that would be the coolest thing to do when I got married (it was more crowded than anything). Suddenly, it was 9:30 PM and we realized we hadn't eaten. We made a cheap Wendy's run and crashed on our couch with a "Friends" episode.

"This is the best burger I've ever had!" I announced. It was. It truly was.

Mike smiled and said something about the wonderfulness of Wendy's. I wasn't listening, because there was a tiny drop of ketchup in the corner of his mouth, and it was about the most adorable thing I'd ever seen. This is exactly what I thought marriage would be like.