Cats and Dogs

So listen...I've been hearing a lot of complaining about the abundance of galoshes trudging their way through the city lately. "There are no swamps in NYC and we aren't going hunting, so what is with the rubber boots?" Well, I will tell you what is with the rubber boots. For those of you have ever been to NYC either during a tremendous rainstorm or as a big snow is melting, you know that there are water hazards that form at the corners and each and every intersection and while I would like to call them puddles, they aren't. They are bodies of water so large that they deserve to be named and added to the Manhattan maps. These suckers are so deep that should you unexpectedly find yourself stumbling into one, you had better hope that you've brought your mask and snorkel, because it it going to take some serious navigating to find your way back out. And those "puddles" ain't got nothing on the ones that form here in Hoboken. In Hoboken we lose whole roads when it rains hard and I don't mean like a small section of road, I mean entire blocks that suddenly go from being roads to canals. If I had a rowboat, it would be a far easier option for navigating through Hoboken on days like today when the rain just refuses to stop.



Today, after attempting to drive to the gym and being rejected due to said road flooding, I decided to re-park the car in our garage and then hoof it over instead. Now, I know some of you are thinking "If the roads aren't drivable, what made you think they were walkable?", but if you were nine months pregnant and getting in your daily workout was all that was keeping you sane, you too would ignore the warning signs and strike out for the gym. It started out as an easy walk. The sidewalks had managed to stay fairly water free despite the roads turning to canals and though I did have to step through some knee-deep "puddles" at a few intersections, I didn't hit anything too serious until I got within a block of the gym. It was at that point that I hit a new body of water which we shall name Lake Blocking-My-Way-to-the-Goldarn-Gym. And this is where it all comes back to the galoshes. Oh ye who think ye are too cool for rainboots, explain to me how I would have managed to wade across said Lake were it not for my knee high rubber boots? Tennis shoes? My tennis shoes get wet if a gray cloud so much as looks at them funny. Leather boots? Kiss those boots goodbye and still...soggy toes. Stilettos? Flats? Even my tried and true Uggs were no match for this lake. Only the fact that I am not in fact too cool to rock rubber boots saved me and enabled me to wade across Lake Blocking-My-Way-to-the-Goldarn-Gym so that I could get in my swim. Yes, I recognize the irony in wading across a lake to go for a swim, but again, were you nine months pregnant...we do what we have to do. And no, my rainboots are not a pretty purple like the ones in the picture above. Mine are a hunter not-trying-to-be-something-they're-not-but-just-admitting-that-they-are-rainboots-by-God-and-proud-of-it green. And I will wear them whenever I so choose. So says I.

(phew...that felt good...)