An Ode To My Boots

My parents gave me these boots for Christmas, and they are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me.

Thanks to these bad boys, I can tromp through anything with ease. Mud, morning dew, tall grass, chicken poop, donkey poop, sheep poop, cow poop... all are treated with the same vast, rubbery, knee-high indifference.

I love the plopping sound they make on my shins. I love the way my pants look tucked into their capacious tops. And I especially love that they cover up my atrocious sock tan with no one the wiser.

Thank you, boots, from the bottom of my heart (and my sole).