The Simpleton

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Cuddy Perkins stopped suddenly in his tracks and stared blankly at the tall line of trees before him. He tried to recall how he’d gotten there, but knew his forgetfulness was not out of the ordinary—nothing to be concerned about. He continued on, reveling in the enveloping coolness of the forest. He’d entered his favorite place in the whole world. A magical place. It made sense now—that he’d be here. He continued forward, allowing his hands to slide across the rough bark on two opposing stout tree trunks. Trees he neither knew the names of, nor particularly cared to know.

Though he knew deep down he’d walked there many times before, still, something strange was going on. He turned his attention to his feet. As he stepped—first with his left foot, then with his right—he carefully watched his size 13 Keds. Yup… they felt funny. He made a face—tightened his lips while squeezing his eyelids tightly shut. It was his I’m so stupid face. Bending over, Cuddy used his thumb to rub off some caked-on mud to expose the section of rubber where his toes were. He rubbed some more but the arrow still wasn’t there. Then, using the same thumb, he wiped the other shoe and, sure enough, there it was! The arrow Momma had drawn with a Sharpie. He’d put his shoes on the wrong feet again. Weighing the hassle of taking them off then putting them on the right foot it would be way too much trouble.

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