so wingman got some new shoes.
he's been wanting new shoes for awhile, but his still fit and i'm a cheap ass bastard and will only get my kids shoes if they need them. and one pair at a time. it's a good thing i didn't have girls.
anyhow, so he finally needed them and we headed to the shoe store.
two things here;
1. wingman has THE worst taste in shoes. seriously. he's not the snappiest dresser to begin with, but the shoes!!! oy.
2. and when did kids shoes get so freakin' expensive! i know i sound old and curmudgeonly but my god you've got to be kidding me! i'd really like to know where i was when this all happened!
so we're shopping and i'm gently steering him away from the crap. which even at 8 years old he's drawn to. just because, you know, he's 8.
okay right now i need to stop and interject something. i do not and have never let my kids get character shoes. ever.
not even when they were really small. ever.
they always ask me why and i always say because they are made poorly and i'd rather spend my money on something that lasts longer.
but really it's because i am a terrible snob and think they are horrible and ugly. they are tacky and they make me want to break into some hivey ol' sweat.
it's fine if you do it and i don't judge your kids. really. but i can't.
and i let my kids be who they are and wear what they want. but i drew that line early on and just let them think it's because i'm cheap. but really it's because I HAVE SOME TASTE.
and trust me, i am fully aware that by denying my children the opportunity to wear character shoes as children, will just insure that they will be the grown adult men wearing the disney/looney tunes/winnie the pooh character sweatshirt/denimn shirt/hat.
we never miss a step on the path. even the tacky ones.
so he finally spies the shoes he wants. and after 8 years of wearing skate shoes and sambas he is now wearing...running shoes? who is he, seinfeld?
but that's what he chose. running shoes. they are silvery and have a cool sole and he's all in love with them. he says they make him feel tall and bouncy and now he can run even faster.
fine. they are a good shoe and he loves them.
flash forward to a few days later.
it was the end of the evening and i was headed upstairs when something caught my eye on the buddha shelf.
you remember the buddha shelf?
okay, so underneath where buddha sits there's a little shelf. and there was a hint of something silvery. and i bent down in the relative dark of the living room and i saw, neatly placed, with laces tucked in, a pair of silvery running shoes. sized wingman.
he loves those shoes SO much he stores them on the buddha shelf.
as a parent your heart goes to pieces a lot. more than you ever think. and usually when you least expect it. and it's those little unexpected piercings that just get you the most.
wingman is a pure soul. everything he does and everything he is comes from what is centered right in his exact middle. his heart, his gut, his soul, it's all right there in the same spot and it controls everything.
and as we grow and get bigger and our bodies stretch our exact middle becomes blurred. and then there is no exact middle. your heart is one place, your gut another, your soul anywhere and everywhere in your body.
and then you spend your entire adult life trying to squeeze those things back closer together. trying to get that exact middle directing everything once more.
trying to be 8 again when everything is possible and special.
and new shoes are stored in a sacred spot because they are that special, too.
oh, and p.s. the duke played the ENTIRE game last night. off the bench and at 2nd base for all the innings. go duke!