…reminds me of my early childhood.
while the other weird girls were in their rooms playing with barbie dolls, I often sat in the doorway armed with black shoe shine, a brush, and a sponge… polishing my dad’s six or so pairs of boots. I’d get my hands all sticky and black with the toxic(!!) smell of shoe shine (Which is what prob destroyed my brain cells and accounts for my retardness).
so when I sat down to polish my dr.martens this evening, the smell reallybrought back tons of memories… :)
sometimes I wonder if I was an abnormal kid……..
