The Croc(odile) Hater

So.
I hate CROCS. You know, those funny looking rubber-like shoes sometimes lined with fleece?
Ya. Those.

Well, hated.

You have to realize, I come from a healthcare/hospital background which means that CROCS were worn by the surgeons or the techs or the nurses or anyone else who had to be on their feet for too many hours to count during the day. Crocs were not fashionable, they were functional. So you can imagine my horror when they were cool to wear as, dare I say? A FASHION TREND.

I've ignored them, denied them, and even snobbily baulked at them.
Why would I want to wear something that was made for healthcare workers just because someone told me they were cool?
I think not.

The topic of Crocs came up at Christmas when my mom said, "You need some Crocs to slip on and off on your driving trip."

Imagine my husband's horror when I said, "EW! I HATE those things. I would NEVER wear them..."

Imagine my horror when I opened a pair for my birthday a few days later from him.


So, today I am the owner of a pair of Crocs. And, I gotta tell you, I can't take them off. I'm not sure that I've felt anything this comfortable on my feet in a long, long time.

Or, maybe EVER. Especially at this 8-month pregnant state.

I simply love them.

Notice I didn't say a PROUD owner?

Don't tell anyone I love them.

You know how much I hate conformity.

(Although those cotton candy pink ones with the oatmeal lining are WAY cute *cough*hint*cough*).