#286 Shoes

I was having trouble motivating myself to write a blog today. I was not feeling inspired, I was annoyed at my children and I’m as big as a house. It’s just that kind of day. Then I talked to my mom.




I was telling her why I’m so annoyed with my seven year old. I mentioned yesterday that we signed the kids up for little league and they went out to get cleats. While they were out I told my husband that if they found new sneakers for my seven year old they should get them since his are starting to fall apart. They came home with really cool light up shoes that my son seemed genuinely excited about. Then later that day he asked us if he “had” to get new shoes because he really missed his old ones and even starting crying about it. As if we were forcing him to abandon a beloved toy for an unworthy substitute. This got me really angry. Here I am trying to do something nice, replace the shoes whose stitching is starting to come apart and whose laces are frayed almost beyond recognition and he’s upset with me. So fine. We took the new shoes back and he can duct tape the old ones together when they start falling apart. He’s happy and I’m still pissed. I just wish I knew where all of this came from…it’s obviously not the first time he’s gotten a new pair of shoes.



So anyway, I told my mom the story and she told me to write about shoes. I couldn’t think of any shoe related Eric stories, so she told me some.



My mother genuinely loves shoes. All shoes. Sandals, heels, boots, flip-flops…ok, maybe not sneakers, but almost all shoes. And she has a closet full of them to prove it. Eric used to call her Imelda Marcos after the Phillipino dictator’s wife who was caught with thousands of pairs of shoes while her country was starving. 2700 pairs to be exact. Now my mom doesn’t have quite that many pairs…but it’s close. I didn’t realize that after Eric started calling her that she started sneaking new pairs of shoes into the house so he wouldn’t see. Oh the things we do because of our kids.



She also told me a story about a much younger Eric. When Eric and I were both really little she and my dad took us to get new shoes. We both got sneakers and sandals. My dad, not normally present on these shopping expeditions (because he was usually working to pay for it all) was outraged by the price of the shoes. Knowing my mother, the shoes weren’t anything extravagant, but they seemed expensive to my dad. Later, Eric managed to lose one of his sandals in the back yard, requiring another shoe purchase. I’m sure both of my parents were thrilled.



I’ll get over my shoe anger and eventually I’ll let the seven year old get a new pair of shoes, but not for a long, long while. I hope his feet don’t grow too quickly.