My littlest one has never really liked wearing shoes, but lately, she’s been taking them off in public. And then refusing to put them back on.
This is fine if you’re at, say, the beach. Or, a grassy knoll.
But in the middle of a store, the library, or A PUBLIC RESTROOM, it’s ridiculously annoying. Gross, even.
I go from “put your shoes on please,” to counting, to forcing them on her feet at which point she screams like I’m cutting off her pinky finger and then proceeds to just toss them off again.
I carried her out of one store like a sack of potatoes under my arm, which left a fabulous impression on all the people behind me at the quality and ingenuity of my parenting skills.
So I decided that I would win this little game because I’M THE MOMMY DAMNIT and I took her to the shoe store to get new shoes that would stay on her feet. Give me shoes that shine, flash, glow-in-the-dark and send smoke signals to fairies so long as she keeps them on her feet.
Lucky for me, the shoe sales people were 18-year olds with no children who apparently don’t understand that the ability for them to take them off on their own is NOT a good thing.
Screw independence. Give me duct tape!
Then they did what every nice shoe sales person is supposed to do and offered to size her which PSHAW oh please. Good luck getting her to put her tiny foot on your fancy sizer thing.
Which she did with no argument, smiling happily. Of course.
“Now let me go see if I have those in a 7.5,” the girl said, headed to the back, home of the sale section aka “shoes for children I can actually afford in your fancy shop.”
SEVEN AND A HALF?
Poor kid’s been wearing a 6. Or at least, I’ve been forcing her to wear a six until she throws them at my head.
And quite honestly, I can’t really blame her.