He was a very practical and pragmatic man who went to work each weekday morning. She was a very spiritual, religious woman who went to church service every weekday morning. On Sunday mornings, he would go play a round of golf. On Sunday mornings, she would go to Sunday church service.
This Sunday, when he had returned from his round of golf and she had returned from her church service, they were each dressing for that day’s traditional Sunday evening family dinner.
When he was almost finished dressing, he sighed and said aloud, “Oh God, I have a hole in my sole.”
Having heard what he said, she came up to him, sympathetically put her arm around his shoulder, and said, “My love, do not worry. Together we will get through this. Finish dressing, and meet me out front. I will take you to get your soul fixed.”
Grateful for his wife’s attentiveness, albeit a bit surprised by her sense of urgency, he walked out of the front door and stepped into the passenger seat of their car that she had at ready in their driveway.
When she pulled out of the driveway, she drove to the left. He was puzzled and turned to his wife and said, “I think you’re going the wrong way.”
“Oh no sweetheart,” she said. “This is definitely the right way.”
“No, I’m sure you’re going the wrong way,” he said. “The shoemaker’s shop is in the strip mall on the north side of town. You’re driving south.”
“The shormaker’s shop?” she said. “Oh no, I’m taking you to see Pastor James at my church.”
“Does he know how to fix soles?” he asked.
“Oh darling,” she said, “fixing souls is what he does.”
“Honey,” he said, “I think we may have a homophone problem.”
“Are you talking about that gay couple that moved into that house around the corner?” she asked. “My pastor said that those types can steal one’s soul. But that doesn’t make him a homophobe, does it?
He chuckled. “Not ‘homophobe,’ honey.” Homophone. Homophones are words that sound alike but are spelled differently and have different meanings.”
She slammed on the brakes, stopped the car, and turned toward her husband. “So are you telling me that you don’t have a hole in your spiritual soul, you have a hole in your shoe’s sole?”
“Yes, exactly,” he said.
“Oh thank God,” she said, “I’m so relieved.” She started the car, turned it around, and headed toward the strip mall on the north side of town where the shoemaker has his shop.
Written for the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt from Linda G. Hill. The challenge is to write a post using “soul” and/or “sole.”