Confessions of a Croc-o-Phobe
My partner has always marched to the beat of his own drum.
I usually find his free-spirited ways endearing, but his latest obsession has me truly concerned.
He has become completely enamored with Crocs.
Yes, those bulky, hole-filled resin clogs that went out of style a decade ago. I first noticed a pair lurking in the corner a few months ago, but didn’t think much of it.
Before I knew it, a rainbow of Crocs in every color invaded our closet.
At first, I tried to keep an open mind.
I know he values comfort and practicality above all else.
But every time I see those clunky clogs clomping around our home, I cringe. The childish colors, the oversized silhouette, the way they make his feet look twice as big — they assault my senses.
I feel like I’m living with a Croc-wearing clown.
My partner seems blissfully unaware of my disdain.
In fact, he’s made it his mission to convert me into a Croc lover.
Every day he extols their virtues:
“They’re so comfortable!”
“They’re perfect for gardening!”
“You can spray them off when they get dirty!”
And the pièce de résistance— he even joked he would buy me a pair for Christmas! Can you imagine?! While I appreciate the thought, I don’t need another lump of coal in my stocking.
Call me vain, but I refuse to let my standards slip.
Crocs are a slippery slope.
What’s next? Wearing pajamas and robes in public like I’m the Dude from The Big Lebowski? I’d rather walk barefoot over hot coals than subject my feet to those glorified doorstops.
Perhaps we have reached a crocs-roads in our relationship.
While we don’t have to agree on everything, this may be a canyon we cannot croc-over. I will stand my ground, even if it means putting my foot down. I can only hope this is just a croc in the road, and not a fundamental incompatibility.
In the meantime, I’ll be hiding his Crocs when he’s not looking.
A girl’s got to take a stand for style and dignity!