So, like the title states, I did leave my shoes in South Carolina. It's quite a tale at that.
It happened when I was seventeen (May of 2012). My mom and I were making a trip from Maryland to Florida. Well, actually we were moving from Maryland to Florida. (I had just lived in Maryland for one full year, after living in Florida prior to that.) So there we were on I-95 S heading back to Melbourne, FL to start again. My mom, my dog Harley, and I were all crammed up in the U-Haul truck. The truck with all of our furniture and belongings in the back and a small cab for us to ride in. And when I say small, I mean tiny. It was one of those no-backseat type of truck cabs with no room to recline the seats whatsoever. We traveled that way for about 1,000 miles. It really was pretty uncomfortable. But then again, I was used to it.
So we stopped to get gas in South Carolina, I don't remember which part. It was one of those gas stations with food and everything, probably a trucker stop, which suited us just fine. Since I brought my cream-colored 7 lb long-haired Chihuahua with me, I had to walk him so he could stretch his tiny legs and use the bathroom as well. There I was, standing in my tan moccasins letting him run around and whatnot, when I felt a weird pinching sensation. It was a tiny sensation, but I felt it all over my feet. Naturally, I look down and scream.
I didn't expect to see what I saw. I wish I never had because it truly was traumatic. And as I freaked out, time seemed to stand still. When I looked down to see what was pinching me, I saw a couple hundred fire ants all over my two feet crawling up to my ankles. I had never seen that many at once before. At least, not all over me! The first thing I did, besides scream, was take my shoes off and frantically throw all of those ants off. When they were
finally off of me, I went to get my shoes. But in the matter of seconds there were about triple the amount of ants all over and in my shoes. The ants were taking over.
I quickly scooped up my dog and frantically asked my mom to finish walking him so I could make sure I got all the ants off in the bathroom. I, also, gave her a quick rundown of what happened. Maybe it was my frantic voice, or the way I said it. But she found it hysterical. I did not. I started walking to the gas station, got about halfway there when I realized I didn't have any shoes on. How I didn't notice the burning asphalt against my bare feet, I don't know. Adrenaline rush maybe? So I ran back to borrow my mom's shoes. They were two sizes too small, but I didn't care. I just needed to make sure those ants were off me. I just needed to know.
After I had calmed down, I noticed that I was actually standing on a fire ant hill. So the previous events were probably a cause of my own carelessness. But, I left my shoes there, on that fire ant hill in South Carolina. I didn't have shoes for the remainder of the trip, until we got to Florida, and I bought a cheap pair of flip-flops.
Nowadays, when I tell this story, I laugh. It's funny how frantic I was over tiny ants. But I did learn a valuable lesson. Well, two.
1. Never,
ever stand on a fire ant hill. Fire ants do bite. They do leave itchy bumps. And they
do attack.
2. Objects and possessions, don't matter. I easily made the decision to leave my shoes than risk getting attacked by those ants again. Or on a more serious note, what if there was a fire in your house. Would you care about your cell phone, or any of your possessions? Would they matter? Or would the people and animals in that house matter?
Lesson Learned: You can always buy another item, another possession, another phone, or computer, or well anything. You can't buy another mom, sister, brother, father, or
person. You can't buy time. You can't buy actions. It doesn't matter what you have. It's dispensable. It's replaceable. But it matters what you do, and who you're with. Who you surround yourself with and the actions you make.
At the end of the day, that's all that matters.