Curse of the Blue Shoes

Pete has several pairs of shoes for the summer.  Here is the face he usually makes when I try to put them on him.

All he does is wail for his “blue shoes”.  And that, my dears, would be these horrifying things:

I know I know, I’m being really dumb and petty and shoes are shoes and blah blah blah.   But really, I have always had an undying hatred for the fisherman style sandal.  Ugly!  Old man shoes!  And they make your feet smell like sour pickles!  I know they are considered Classic and untimeless and a European back-packing essential but blech.  I haaaaate them.

 

So anyway, when Pete needed “flexible playground shoes” Guess Who secretly took him shopping one day without me and came home with the beauties above?  Ah yes, my beloved.  And it figures that they have ever since been Pete’s absolute favorite, the cause for many a temper tantrum when heading out the door in the mornings.  Like: seriously, Pete? I fear that my dear son and I may not have similar tastes in fashion as he gets older.

 

That means I should spend as much as I can now on the awesome stuff, right?

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