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Flinging

Me: Hey, Pop. Remember the good old days, when I used to walk around the house, flinging my shoes off into the air?
Pop: Yeah.
Me: I was just sitting here reminiscing.
Pop: You don’t do it anymore?
Me: No. I don’t wear slippers in the house here. We just leave all our shoes at the door.
Pop: Maybe you should blog about this.
Me: Maybe.
Pop: Maybe you could start wearing slippers again.
Me: Maybe. (But I don’t think Sam would like the flinging.)

Ever have one of those habits that you really enjoy, but no one else seems to appreciate? And then you try to stop for their sake, but, because it’s a habit, you slip up and annoy them? A few years ago, when I was living with my parents, I took great delight in, while walking through the house, throwing a foot up and flinging my house slipper into the air. Watching it arc across the room, or sometimes into the next room, made me so happy. It did not make my parents or my brother so happy. In fact, it eventually made them quite unhappy. I can’t explain why it pleased me so (the shoe flinging, not their unhappiness), but even now, just thinking about it, puts a smile on my face, a giggle in my gut.

Over time, with practice, I trained myself not to fling my slippers. Not that there weren’t some missteps along the way. I find it amusing that now that I no longer live with him, my father is suggesting I take up the habit again.

Update: I just practiced a little flinging while in the bathroom. I realized that it's not just the arc through the air I appreciate, but the flipping through the air. Watching my shoe rotating across the room brought back the good feelings. The black smudge it left on the wall reminded me of one of the reasons my parents weren't too fond of the activity. Good thing the bathroom walls are tile - the smudge came right off.

Posted by Shokufeh at July 25, 2003 09:21 AM