Ah, back-to-school shoe shopping. Thank God you only come once a year.
We had a list of what we wanted to buy the kidlets, in terms of footwear. We wanted each kidlet to have two pairs of sneakers in the next size up, and we wanted the girls to have two pairs of dress shoes apiece. There was no need for Pig Jr. to have dress shoes because he hates wearing them and is required to wear sneakers to his preschool anyway. Since shoes and winning lottery tickets do not grow on trees in my backyard, we headed to the local el cheapo shoe store for their buy one, get one half off sale in an attempt to purchase ten pairs of kidlet shoes and possibly one pair of sneakers for Pig.
While driving through the almost-empty parking lot to arrive at the shoe store, the one lone car even remotely near us suddenly veered across rows of empty cars, cut in front of us, and appeared to be racing us to the front door of the store. Really? Was that truly necessary? Did you think it was likely that we would buy out the entire selection of shoes from the store before you had the chance to find something? And there was only one other car in the whole parking lot. Were you afraid that our mini-van would take up all of the rest of the spaces? I personally think that would be impossible, but apparently that other driver would disagree.
So we made it into the store without having been run off the road, simply because Pig hit the brakes to avoid the reckless driver, and started searching for shoe sizes for the kidlets, in order of their ages. We knew that both Pig Jr. and Rooster have required wide width shoes in the past, but there were almost none available in the next size up for each of them. Eventually, a store employee came over to us and asked if we needed anyone sized. We said yes, that all three kidlets' feet had grown, and thanked her for getting the sizing guide for us.
She did not know how to read it. First, she told us that she could do only one of each of their feet. I objected to that since not everyone has two feet that are the same size. In fact, Horse had one foot that was a two-and-a-half and another that was a three. That half size makes a world of difference to a growing kidlet's comfort in a pair of shoes. Then we asked the sales clerk to see if any of the kidlets needed wide width shoes. Horse needed them as a toddler, but her feet changed shape as she grew and does not need them now. The shoe store employee told us the incorrect answer for two kidlets. She read "regular" instead of "wide" for each of them instead of looking at the numbers that actually showed where the shoe width changed for each shoe size. When I pointed this out to her, she physically shoved my kidlets' feet over as far as possible, so they were actually popping over the side of the sizing guide's edge just so that she could claim they both had regular, not wide, feet. It turns out, that el cheapo shoe store had significantly reduced the number of wide width shoes they carried, and that employee did not want to miss out on a sale. Good thing my kidlets have stubborn parents who decided we were not going to buy shoes in larger sizes just to avoid the width issue.
We found one wide width pair of sneakers for Pig Jr. Then his adoring eyes lit upon Lightning McQueen sneakers, so we sighed and found them in the next larger size so that he could have a pair he really liked, even if they were not the width he really needed. We found plenty of regular width sneakers and dress shoes for Horse. She picked out what she liked from the selection we set aside that had decent soles on them. We walk a mile-and-a-half round trip to school, so the kidlets' shoes have to be able to withstand a fair amount of abuse from my little foot-scuffers. We found absolutely nothing in Rooster's size. Pig was unable to find anything decent that fit him, either.
We paid, and loaded ourselves into our mini-van. While I was strapping Pig Jr. into his carseat, I noticed the little girl, who could not have been much more than one, in the car next to us. Their door was opened, and she was climbing up and down on the seat, not safely strapped into her carseat at all. Her father, or at least the man who was fiddling under their hood, was messing around with the car battery while using a tire iron in some non-approved fashion to try and access something. He went around to the driver's side of his car and started rocking the car back and forth in his parking spot (Remember that loose one-year-old? I was panicking for her sake.) before returning to mess around with metal tools and a live battery. Pig and I just looked at each other, and Pig pulled the car away from that guy as quickly as he could. Both of us were afraid that the man was going to electrocute himself and fry everything nearby in the process. There was a woman, presumably the little girl's mother and the man's wife, who was on a cell phone nearby who appeared to be calling for help, so we are hopeful that no one got injured.
While waiting for our heart rates to return to normal, we checked out a more expensive store nearby to see if they had any shoes that would fit Rooster. That was an epic fail, and we did not bother checking for sneakers for Pig. We went home for lunch instead.
After lunch, we tried the really-not-cheap shoe store that is near where we live. Some people might think it is an affordable place, since they sell eighty dollar shoes for "only" fifty bucks, provided they have your size in stock. I don't care what anyone says. Fifty dollars is still a lot of money for me to fork over for a pair of shoes. We struck out in finding wide width kidlet shoes, and Pig was also unable to find the shoes he needed.
While I was entertaining three very bored with shoe shopping kidlets while Pig was hunting down his size, I took the kidlets up and down the aisles and pretended we would look for shoes for me. I really do need a pair of white walking sneakers, but I can almost never find my extra-wide size in stores. To amuse the kidlets, I had them find me boxes that said "wide" on them, and I would try the shoes on if they were anywhere near my normal size. Obviously, nothing fit, but the kidlets were eager to tell Daddy about the different shoes that Mommy was trying. Somehow, this led to us walking around some more and looking for a pair of boots for me.
Now I am a jeans and tee shirt kind of gal. I am not, in any stretch of the imagination, a style maven. I choose my clothing based on comfort and the ability to get away with leaving it in a laundry basket overnight if I don't have the time to fold clothing once it's washed. Fifty dollar sneakers might be the most extravagant type of footwear that I will ever purchase. But I somehow found myself drooling over some of the boots in the store, and no, I am not referring to the gaudy rain boots that Rooster was trying to put over her arms. I mean the sleek, leather, could-be-referred-to-as-sexy-if-anyone-other-than-me-wore-them type of boots.
Pig saw my eyes light up. He encouraged me to try on a pair that the store actually had close to my size. They fit. I wanted them. Pig told me to buy them. And somehow, I could not. They just do not have a place in my jeans and tee shirt life, and I cannot justify purchasing an outfit just so that I could wear those boots once in a blue moon. We left that store empty-handed.
When we returned home, I promised Rooster I would look for special shoes for her online. I reassured her that we would not send her to school without shoes. We even explained that the schools do not allow kidlets to enter without proper footwear, so we would have to buy her something appropriate. Then I went online and ogled boots for me.
I found a pair that I adore. The manufacturer even makes them in my hard to find extra-wide size. Pig told me to go for it and buy them. I'm torn, because I would love to do so, but the responsible Mommy and wife in me cannot justify the cost. They are even more expensive than the boots in the fifty bucks store, and certainly oodles more money than the el cheapo store we hit first today. I would rather spend the money to buy a couple of pairs of decent sneakers and dress shoes for my little girl, and know that she, at least, is getting our money's worth out of them.
Sometimes, though, after a long day of trying to find footwear for three kidlets, it is comforting to dream about a pair of sleek, black boots that I would never have the chance to wear. And it's even more comforting to know that my kidlets will be well-shod instead.
No comments:
Post a Comment