Shoes. Mine.

I do not like shoes.

There. I've said it.

If I could go everywhere without shoes, I would. And yes, I realize you're all making West Virginia jokes in your mind right now, but I was born in Texas and I've always felt this way.

I know that I am in the minority as there are many of you out there for whom shoes are a type of therapy, or at least I've heard of this in the many synapses of S*x and the City. I just don't get that. Not that there's anything wrong with it.

I currently possess only six pairs of shoes. Four pairs of sandals, a pair of acceptable wintery loafers, and a pair of tennis shoes that have been in my possession for nine years and still look brand spanking new because, well, I really, really hate socks.

I did not inherit this trait from my mother because she just had to part with twenty good pairs all because there weren't room for them in her teensy new closet and I wouldn't take them.

I have subconsciously, though, tried to pass this on to my children I guess because shopping for kid's shoes is very low on my list of good ways to spend an afternoon.

But my mother came over for the day yesterday and insisted we buy poor Elizabeth a pair of shoes because, alas, she has never had any.

Nope, she's never had a pair of shoes in her whole life. Fourteen months old and still toddling around on her bare feet. I didn't see a problem with it. I mean, she wasn't even walking two months ago, why did she need shoes? The old ladies at the supermarket never ceased to remind me that she shouldn't be out in the oh, so cold Texas winter of 50 degrees without shoes. Never mind that she was snug as a warm bug in the sling, but dang, there was a teeny toe poking out, frostbite was imminent! Someone call the authorities stat! When I meet my friend for our weekly library date, she always says, "Elizabeth, did you lose your shoes?" and I know she really means, "Geez, buy the poor kid a pair of shoes, already". My mom let me know that if I did not go pronto to the mall and buy that baby some shoes she would be just like me and hate shoes forever and I'd get called by her teachers because she's stripping her shoes off in class and won't I come do something about it like the identical hell she apparently went through during my elementary school years.

So yesterday my mom bought Elizabeth her first pair of shoes.



I don't think my mother needs to worry about her hating shoes like her mama. She adores her new shoes. I had to rock her to sleep with the shoes on and then sneak them gingerly off her feet to put her to bed. She wanted them on her feet first thing this morning while wearing nothing but a diaper saying, "shoes. mine."

Her first phrase: "shoes. mine."

I blame my mother.