I knew I was asking for trouble walking barefoot across the yard like that. If the broken glass and sharp little beer car pull-tabs didn't get me, I knew there were parasitical larvae in some suspended state of development just waiting to find a way into a good healthy digestive tract like mine, even if it meant exploiting a weak spot in the soles of my feet in order to get in. I am ashamed to admit it, but there were many such chinks in my armor. The summer had just begun, and I was not in the practice of walking about with no shoes or socks on, like some ocher primitive. I am a proud member of MENSA. I am better than that.
So, where were my shoes? If I was so smart I should know the answer to this fairly simple question.
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