See these? These are the Boot version of Crocs. Now, a word about Crocs. They should not be worn by adults unless they are in either the Gutter Cleaning or Fish Gutting Industries. For kids, they are the perfect shoe. Why? Dogshit. Kids’ shoes are dogshit magnets. You could be taking your kid for a hike across the stark crystalline emptiness of the Ross Ice Shelf in Antarctica or across the vast desolate wastelands of the Gobi Desert or up the slopes of Olympus Mons on friggin’ Mars and he/she will step in dogshit. It’s axiomatic. Wither goeth kids shoes, there lieth dogshit. Solution: Crocs. Step in shit? Hose ’em off. Try doing that with those $150 Air Jordans or Bruno Maglis or whatever the hell the kids are wearing these days. Anyway, Crocs, Boot Version, here:

So the Croc Boots. Not the first footwear item that one thinks of when one considers a shoe to buy for the boy who lives in a city where the average temperature is 70 and about 6 inches of rain falls in any given year. But Lucas’ best buddy Tate has a pair, and naturally Lucas wanted ’em. Not surprisingly, they were on sale for $16 so we got them. It’s rained here twice this year already, you know. We almost got an inch. They might actually be useful.

At dinner tonight, the conversation turned to fashion. “Tate has a tanktop just like me”, Lucas announced, pointing down at his well-worn wifebeater. (Question for the group: at what point, if ever, does one use the term “wifebeater”, in reference to the classic tight ribbed tanktop favored by Kid Rock and Tony Soprano, in front of one’s kids?) “You know what you should do”, I said. “You and Tate should go to the mall with Mom and Tate’s Mom, and you should wear just your tanktop and your shorts and your Blue Croc Boots.”

I was clearly on to something. “YEAH!”, Lucas exclaimed. “We could wear our tanktops and our boots and we could bring our swords and we could walk around and say to the ladies – ‘Hey, ladies! We are Cool Men! And….we’re FANCY!'”

Those boots? Worth their weight in gold.

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