New Shoes

Amy has been complaining about "pinching shoes" for weeks now. We've promised to take her shoe shopping, but as we run from school to gymnastics to birthday parties to dance class, it's often difficult to find time for those "extra" shopping trips. But when she burst into tears while walking into school last week, I knew that we could prolong the trip no longer. So, on Friday morning we headed to the nearby outlets for our shopping extravaganza.

Erin has also begun voicing concerns about her ill-fitting shoes lately, so I had both girls' feet measured. I felt a bit guilty when I discovered that Amy's foot measured 1.5 sizes larger than the shoes she has been squeezing into, and Erin's feet have grown one full size in the last few months. We headed to the girls' section of the store, and there the chaos began.

While Brian wailed and fussed in the background, shoes began flying. Erin pulled random shoes off the shelf, irregardless of the sizes, while Amy began whining that she "was NOT going to buy shoes that match Erin's. I'm tired of matching her". I began sweating bullets while trying in vain to keep Brian quiet, Erin re-directed, and Amy happy. After many, many "try-ons", we finally found shoes for each of the girls. Brian continued to fuss and cry while we waited in the long, long line at the cash register. Finally, we made our way out of the store.

Our car was parked quite a distance from the shoe store, and by the time I finally buckled the kids into their car seats and loaded the stroller into the back of the van, I was mentally and physically exhausted.

The girls begged to wear their shoes home, so I handed each one a box of shoes. They happily donned their new footwear and held them up for me to admire.

That's when I noticed that something didn't look quite right with Erin's feet. Her shoes looked much, much too large. I climbed into the back of the van and removed her shoes.

To my horror, I discovered that she was wearing a pair of shoes that Amy had tried on and discarded. They were the same style that Erin had chosen, but unfortunately, in the chaos, we must have grabbed the wrong box.

I sat there for a full minute while I digested this situation. I then silently climbed out of the van and lugged the stroller out of the back. Ignoring Brian's wails, I unbuckled his seat belt and plopped him into the stroller. I instructed Erin to place her shoes back into the box. I located the receipt and we all trudged back to the store. We stood in another long, long line while Brian screeched at the top of his lungs. I filled out all sorts of "exchange" forms while the cashier checked my license, located the correct pair of shoes, and made the trade. Finally, we returned to the car and headed home. Everyone was happy, but Mommy was ready for bed.

Now I know why I procrastinated for so long. It might be a long, long time before I attempt another shoe-shopping venture like this. A very long, long, long time.