When you live at the Jersey Shore in the summer, you're never really alone at the beach or the boardwalk and you're never really alone when you go get the mail or take out the garbage.

You always have your special friends with you. Your trusty flip flops. Flip flops are kind of like a good relationship. At first they're a little uncomfortable, but if you choose the right one's, they mold to you and literally feel like an extension of you.

At the beginning you wear them once in a while, but before long you can't wait to get home to them. Pretty soon, you never even look at your other shoes. When it's winter, you miss them...a lot.

So Friday, when I hit the front of my right flip flop on the steps of the deck in my backyard, I was afraid to look down. When I did, my worst fear was realized. One flip flop...two pieces. I raced to the garage and grabbed the first roll of electric tape I saw, and proceeded to "fix" it.

My wife looked down, shook her head and simply said, "No". The next day she was in town getting me a new pair. I didn't throw the broken ones out though. I'm gonna use them when I work in the yard. I have to. I'm not good at goodbyes.

 

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