Shoes

Shoes, what is it about shoes? I have never understood this fascination - is it developed or learned; is it possible you’re born with this innate love of footwear? That must be it…

“Mommy, can we look at the shoes?”

“This is a grocery store, honey, they don’t have shoes.”

“But mom, those are shoes,” as she points to the bin of flip-flops.

From the time she could talk she wanted shoes – it was almost her first word! Mommy…shoes. Even now, at 14, a visit to the mall is not complete without at least one stop to look at shoes. I hate shoes (hate is rather strong – I definitely dislike them) – wouldn’t wear them if it wasn’t required by health regulations. Comfort is always more important than looks; moccasins are perfect. Even Krystal takes her shoes off the instant she enters the house and only wears them when necessary. Necessary being the key word here since, when

taking out the garbage – no shoes

walking to the pool (down the block) – no shoes

going to the mailbox – no shoes

she knows she won’t have to get out of the car – no shoes

at Uncle Shane’s wedding reception – no shoes.

And yet, she always wants shoes. Where did this seemingly “natural” desire come from? I did all the right things to ‘train’ her. The first three years of her life were spent barefoot or in moccasins. Believe me she has other obsessions and I get those – they are my fault.
Motorcycles, for example, she loves to ride and can’t wait till she can own her own. (Me either!) I trained her well on this one – at three years old she was pointing out motorcycles (and old cars but that’s another story) while driving in the car. I knew I had done my job well the year we went to see Santa Claus at the mall.
She was four years old and couldn’t wait to see Santa. She had already figured out exactly what she was going to request but had refused to share with me; I didn’t want one of those real embarrassing Santa moments. She climbed up in Santa’s lap, smiled sweetly and when prompted politely stated,

“I want a Harley.”

“A toy motorcycle huh? What color would you like?”

“A Harley for my mom and me to ride, a big one!” she quickly exclaimed; correcting this misunderstanding of her request.

I beamed with pride – THAT'S my girl!

But shoes – why shoes?!