Forget the move to Lubbock 8 days ago that demanded of me grit and sweat and long day’s journeys into night. Yesterday a trip to the shoe store to shod the youngest 3 of my daughter’s 4 kids made me think that branding cattle might come easy.
Rope and tie down one boy long enough to slap one foot on the measuring device—there’s one at the ready for right or left foot. Grab a pair of new socks from the display, lace and tie up one foot on the slowest boy, cut that kid loose to hobble around the store to investigate every item within reach of a person 35 inches tall while the other two take a turn choosing or being convinced they like the style they will go home wearing, mother bent at the waist to assist the poor sales person who has to pretend she enjoys her job, and I with my camera capturing chaos. Ta-dah.
So many shoes and so little time. Stickers and a quarter dropped in a gumball machine got us out the door. I can only imagine the calm after our fury.
“Handsome shoes,” one of the twins said as he lifted his foot so I would take a picture. Then he said, as he always does, "See it. See it," waiting for me to show him the viewer.
The feet are small but growing, each step into the next size appears enormous at the time, and the challenge of keeping feet confined to shoes in summer seems futile.
But for a day, every kid wearing a new pair of tennis shoes feels more like Cinderella than a cow branded or a horse shod, and that is no small feat.
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