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September 5, 2007

“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes–and ships–and sealing-wax–
Of cabbages–and kings–
And why the sea is boiling hot–
And whether pigs have wings.”

Lewis Carroll

Let’s skip the cabbages and sealing wax and talk about shoes. Sunday was my very first shoe shopping expedition with the babies. They’re 20 months old and all previous shoes were either Robeez knock offs, hand me down sandals, or consignment shop sneakers. I’m a bargain shopper and I have trouble paying $40+ for something that a.) will be outgrown in less than a year; b.) fits in the palm of my hand; and c.) was possibly made by some 3rd world adolescent making $0.08 an hour. Still, feet are important and now that they walk everywhere I wanted to make sure they had a well fitting, quality sneaker.

My first stop was a local mall which, according to the internet, boasted three stores for children’s shoes including the one EV-ER-Y-ONE told me I had to buy from. Never trust the internet. There was no S.R. and my heart was set on at least having them measured at this mecca for children’s shoes. Still, rather than waste a perfectly good trip to the mall we went into one of the other shoe stores to see what was in stock. The sales person offered to measure their feet for me and the verdict was that A’s feet required a size 6 and R’s feet required a size 5. I was a little annoyed that she didn’t bother to measure both feet (my own feet are a half size apart) and both kids struggled and cried while she measured. They didn’t have much in their sizes anyway. So I didn’t find out if it feels good to pay less.

Off to the second mall we went. Upon arrival I realized that I was breaking my cardinal rule of no more than one “stroller only” stops per morning. My choices were risk taking two cranky kids into a crowded shoe store or let them go barefoot for two days until I had time to go shopping again. Either way I was going to have people staring at me so what the heck. Into the mall we went.

I have to say, those S.R. people know what they’re doing. At this store both kids were happy to stand still for the saleswoman as she chatted and played with them. She deemed R’s feet a size 6 and A’s feet a size 5.5. (Evidently in the trip from mall 1 to mall 2 A’s feet shrunk and R’s feet went up an entire size.) The only problem I had was trying to remove the shoes from R’s feet. She was so happy with her “shooooz” that I just let her wear them home. Now both kids want to wear “shoooz” all of the time. Their shoes, Daddy’s shoes, Mommy’s shoes, the doll baby’s shoes…doesn’t matter but it seems that Shoooz is the word of the day around here.

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