C is for Clogs

  Susan hated clogs. Her mother insisted that they were good for the feet. Every time she said that, Susan replied: "Not for my feet, I always kick myself on that knobbly bone at my ankle. It hurts! a lot!"
  "You'll get used to it!" Mum answered.
  "Get used to it," Susan mumbled, almost slamming the door on her way out, The weather was lovely, it was Saturday, and the street slowly filled with children. At first Susan sat in her garden, reading last week's Mickey Mouse, Linda went to the neighbours, who had just gotten a new guinea pig. But then the girl from across the street and her brothers came out. The girl had long, black hair, braided in a long, long braid. She did not use any hairband.
  "How is it, that your hair never ever unravels itself?" Susan asked, "I would like my hair to do the same, then I could maybe keep Mum happy by not losing my hairbands every day."
  The girl said: "Well my hair has never ever been cut. My Mum says it helps it not to unravel. And then it's curly." Susan sighed. Her hair was straight and boring blonde, and Mum inisted on having it cut at regular intervals at hhirdressers next to the grocery store. She so loved Fatima's long black braid.
  "Do you want to skip a rope with me," Fatima asked, "I just learned how to do double swings, my biggest brother's wife showed me how to."
  "I'd love to," Susan answered with yet another sigh, but I can't jump with these clogs on, the rope often as not snatches underneath them. It''s no fun."
  "Take them off," Fatima said. "Or can't you skip barefoot!"
  "Genius!" Susan exclaimed, hugged the smaller girl, and hurried in after her rope and some other playthings.
  All the long morning they jumped, skipped, played wall ball, keep away, and sevensies. Just before lunch Susan put her feet in the clogs. and had them on when Mum came out and called them in for eating. Susan looked at her socks, they were dirty and not in one piece any more. Quickly she washed hands and feet and hid the socks in the laundry basket.
  After lunch she found a new pair of socks and went playing. This time they played in Susan's garden. They played freeze tag, hide and seek and more rope skipping, this time with a long rope and everybody taking turns. Susan was not very good at this, Linda was better, and Fatima too, even Fatima's younger brother was better actually. But they had loads of fun. Much more fun than in school, where Susan's class mate always made her swing the rope forever, because she was not good at jumping.
  Two of her class mates, Fatima's elder brother and his friend Jens, came and joined in the jumping as well. Susan's clogs stood forgotten in the driveway. Jens had a Pogo-stick. It was a new craze, and they all took turns trying it. It was fun, heaps of fun.
  "Wonderful!" Susan said as she returned from her trip to the corner of the street and back and gave the Pogo-stick back to the waiting Jens. "My birthday is soon, I'd like a Pogo-stick. It is really fun."
  "You did very well," Jens said, his surprise showing. I did not think you were good at jumping, you always fumble at the rope skipping, but you were the one doing best on the Pogo!" Susan went a bit red, but she was happy.  Soon, far too soon the sun sunk behind the houses, and the mothers came put, calling their children home for dinner. "See you tomorrow!" they called, as they drifted off in twos or threes.
  Once again Susan put her holey and dirty socks deep inside the laundry basket. But laundry baskets are not good at keeping secrets, and  mummies are not stupid.
  Some days later, Susan's Mum caught Susan in the door as she returned home from school. "Susan. What on earth is happening to your socks?"
  "My socks?" Susan asked innocently. "Why?"
  Mum sighed: "You know perfectly well what I mean. Your socks!" She pulled a dirty, holey sock from her pocket. "How did it, and all the rest of your socks, end up like this?"
  "Oh!" Susan said. "It just happened. Fatima asked me if I wanted to skip together with her, but I could not skip with those, those ... idiotic cogs on." Susan knew better than to swear around her mother. "I fell over the rope. Then I tried without them, and it was just perfect, wonderful to be skipping again."
  "Susan!" Mum said, "If you pull off your clogs, then please pull off your socks as well. But I think I won't buy you any more clogs after this."
  Mom saw Susan's smile and added. "Don't be too happy. I'm going to buy you a pair of those natural shoes, they should be healthy for your feet as well!"
  This time Susan was careful to hide her smile. She loved running barefoot, and "duckfeet" as those shoes were jokingly called after their ugly looks was almost as good - at least according to the two flower power girls in her class.

  No more clogs!

 Note: Now we're really back in time. We are in the Spring before the first summer at Unicorn Farm. Susan will have a Pogo-stick, a red one, for her birthday. And she loved the "duckfeet" shoes.