Left Shoe: We got her! Go! Go! Go!
Right Shoe: I'm going, I'm going. Jeez, do you remember her being such a fatty? Eight months in Belgium and she goes from a slender clutch to a wide-load tote.
Left Shoe: She's a little weighed down, but can you blame her with all the waffles and chocolate and beer she's been subjected to here? And don't forget the french fries. French fries originated in Belgium, you know.
Right Shoe: Can't say I did know that. What I do know is my arch is starting to bend the wrong way and I think I just popped a shoelace.
Left Shoe: I hear that. My chunky platform cannot handle the weight. After we get her back to the States, a visit to the cobbler is definitely in order.
Handbag: Um, hello? I can hear you. And, I'm not fat. I've got a wallet in the oven and it could be either of yours.
Right Shoe: Now my sole hurts, too.
nice play on words
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