Shoes

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My mom, my sisters and I have the same passion for shoes. We all have our share of trendy heels and flip-flops in all the colors of the rainbow. My mom has two shoe racks filled with heels. She’s legally blonde with out blonde hair or the puppy. Every color and style, for every season and purpose; she has them all. Her closet is like her own personal shoe store. She loves her shoes.
Then you look in my oldest sister’s closet and it looks similar to that. She has her fair share of tall boots: black, brown, white, grey, short heel, tall heel, pointy, square. She loves her shoes. If you move on to the second oldest of four, she has the obsession with flip-flops. There are all different colors plus ones with beads, sparkles, and patterns. She loves her shoes. When it comes to me, I like the tennies. Nike, Addidas, Kangaroo, Champion, they are all in my closet. They are worn maybe once a week so I don’t kill them. I love my shoes.
Now for my younger sister, shoes were never her thing. If she could go without them, she would. Her shoe collection is not accepting of others. The same two pairs of flip-flops are worn on her feet in the summer. Then there are the same pair of clogs that are scuffed through out the winter. She’s like a cavewoman, she never wears shoes. She hates shoes.





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