A Missed Irritation

Does anyone else miss something that irritated you as a kid; something that once was a serious annoyance, but now is pleasant nostalgia and you actually wish for the irritation to come back?  Well, for me it is the broken shoelace.  Do you remember?  Think about it.  I was tying my key into my shoelaces yesterday before a run and I realized that the shoelaces in my 5 year old shoes would never, ever, ever, never, ever, ever, in forever and a day, break!  And it bummed me out a little.  Do you remember, as a kid, being forced to fix a failed shoelace by tying the two pieces together?  And that was if it was the first break.  If it was the 2^nd or 3^rd, then you were stuck with a lace half the necessary length so you could only run it through the lower eyelets.

For me it seemed to always happen during a major crisis.  Maybe the Germans or Indians (depending on what movie I had just watched) were attacking and I was desperately trying to save the weak and helpless from the onslaught.  No gun slinging cowboy or triple Medal of Honor winner in the midst of saving the day should have to stop to fix a shoelace!  Especially one that was promoted to General, but turned it down so he could stay on the front line fighting with his men.  Or perhaps when my professional baseball teammates, the St. Louis Cardinals, desperately needed me to turn a single into a home run to win the World Series and they would then gleefully carry me off the field….again.  But the worst was if I needed a quick get away from the reach of my older brother who always seemed to be irritated with me for some reason, but luckily for me he was also lazy so all I usually needed to do was be Speedy Gonzales for a short distance and I would be safe again.

No, for me and my dangerous and heroic childhood the broken shoelace was a hated nemesis.  Surely it was a product of the fall along with thorns and thistles and hard labor.  Damn it, Adam and Eve!  I’m sure it says something about that in the bible somewhere.  But now I miss that tired old shoelace that couldn’t handle my rough and tumble lifestyle.  Maybe I will start a company that sells laces with a written guarantee that they will break in less than 6 months or your money back.  I’m sure that would help me make my 2^nd million (I gave up on making the 1^st million).  Nike, Reebok are you listening?  I could have a rolling cart on the corner selling the sacred items.  I could do demonstrations to prove their unique ability to break.  Okay, maybe my plans should be a little less grand.  I will settle instead for sabotaging both of my daughters shoes with small cuts in the laces.  Yes, all of their shoes.  They will hate me at first, but will thank me when they are my age.