Shortly before basketball season started, The Dad and I took The Daughters to get proper-fitting shoes for them to practice in. And by proper-fitting, I mean anything that didn't have holes in the toes and had shoelaces that weren't held together by scotch tape. The scotch tape served as an aglet for all you Phineas and Ferb fans out there!
The first dozen pairs I suggested to Daughter 2 were not met with any kind of approval, so Daughter 2 and The Dad selected a nice pair of velcro-Z-strapped shoes that were two sizes bigger than I thought Daughter 2 would wear.
"Did you measure her feet?" I lovingly asked, not at all sounding condescending.
He answered, "Uh--- yeah, I did. They fit and she has room to grow!"
Two weeks later, after Daughter 2's first practice, she tells me that she's pretty sure she could be the fastest girl on her team if her shoes would stay on her feet and not fall off every time she did anything like walk or run or move.
So Daughter 2 and I ventured to one of my most unfavorite places in the universe: The Mall. Let me explain - For the first 15 years of my teaching career, I taught high school English. And malls are full of high school English students, speaking improper English, wearing their hats on inside the building and their pants down around the bottom of their boxers, and generally doing all the things I would do if I were in high school. But I'm not in high school. I'm a (former) English teacher and when I go to the mall, I instantly feel like I'm on hall duty and, while I love teaching - and I loved teaching high school! - I do NOT enjoy being on-duty when I'm out shopping. Therefore, when I do have to go to the mall for whatever reason, I have an exit strategy before even entering. We don't make any unnecessary stops to look at hermit crabs or baseball cards. We get in; we get out. This trip with Daughter 2 was to be no different.
Unfortunately, we had to go to four different stores - which were all over the mall - before we found a good pair of basketball shoes in the correct size. Fortunately they were on sale and they were oh-so cool!! They were pink, old-school converse high-tops ... and they had rainbow shoe strings! With real aglets! We ran the store in them! We did stretches in them! They felt great! Wrap these suckers up and let's get outta this mall!
The next day - the day before practice - I had Daughter 2 wear the new shoes to break them in some. She wore them for 5 minutes then took a bath. "They felt just fine, Momma!"
The next day, we were running late (as usual) and went racing into the practice area. I'm unlacing as Daughter 2 is pushing her foot into the shoes. Geez - these were the hardest shoes I'd ever tried to get on. We pushed and pulled and twisted and finally undid all the laces just to get them on her feet.
"But Momma - they don't feel right."
"Sorry, Toots. You should have spent more time breaking them in."
A few more grunts and we had the first shoe on.
"But Momma - they don't feel good!"
"Daughter 2, we tried these on. You ran around the store. You stretched in them. There's no way your foot has grown that much since we got these. Just wear them and be happy that I even got you a second pair of shoes." Then I launched into made up statistics about how children in underdeveloped Asian nations don't even have shoes and they'd be totally happy with any shoes, even if they didn't fit or feel good. It's a speech I learned during my birthing classes. It can be applied to food, clothing, and toys!
Finally, after I had broken a sweat, the shoes were on and tied. Daughter 2 made one last attempt for my sympathies...
"But momma -- "
I held up one finger, wagging it back and forth, "I do NOT want to hear it. Go!"
Daughter 2 limped up to the coach, who apparently noticed her bright pink shoes, because he pointed down to them and seemed to be smiling.
Daughter 2 looked up at him, looked at her shoes, then glared at me before beginning a very deliberate and painful-looking journey back to me. Oh, jeez. If this guy made fun of her pink shoes and we have to go shoe shopping again, I'm making him come along to the mall with us!
She positioned herself right in front of my face, took a deep breath, then closed her eyes as she says, "Momma. My shoes are on the wrong feet."
Oh. Well. That would certainly explain why they were so uncomfortable, right?
The good news is that they don't take nearly as long to get on when we put them on the right feet. And Daughter 2 says they feel great when she plays. In fact during her first game, she scored three out of the four baskets that her team claimed!
The bad news is that Daughter 2 won't let me put her shoes on for her anymore... wait - is that really bad news???!?!!!
