(Valdosta, GA) No, Mom didn’t die. She got better and her feet stopped swelling, so she just doesn’t fit in them anymore. She got the one dance and that was it. Now it’s my job, the wonderful son of hers, to find a new home for them. I only wish that when she asked for her final wish to be a pair of shoes she could dance in that she hadn’t asked for these dumb Christmas-y elf shoes. Please, I’m begging you to take these off of my hands and just be a normal person. Here are just some of the questions I have gotten about them since I put them up for sale so you can see what I’ve been dealing with and maybe throw me a couple of bucks to take them off my hands? We’ll talk later.
Hey there, Judy here. I was wondering what the history was with the shoes? Like, was it an actual elf that used to own them or are they just like a fun gag gift? If yes, what would you rate the elf’s sexiness on a scale of 1-10? I’ll buy them if the answer is above a 3.
I don’t have the right size for these shoes, but I was curious if you knew who the original owner of these shoes was? I’m investigating a murder case and I think they might play a pivotal role in bringing this killer to justice.
Do you think that myself and another person’s feet could wear the shoes, with potentially a third shoe for both of us in the middle? We’re trying to step up our three-legged race game and if these fit, we could be Bazinga.
What’s the recommended lotion you would use to clean these bad boys? Don’t want to get myself in a situation where I’d need to switch my lotion providers. Not again.
Please, I’m begging you, end it. Take these cursed elf shoes off my hands before I lose it. I regret the whole thing.
This article was written by Nathan Ellwood. If you don’t know, now you know. Follow him @NPEllwood.