It’s the second week of October, and I’m still wearing flip flops.
No, it’s not that warm outside. I live in Pennsylvania, remember?
My poor, over-sized feet have been swollen since mid-May. When I inquired of my obstetrician as to whether the swelling would improve with the arrival of cooler weather, she laughed. She assured me that it would improve by February.
It will snow between now and February, if you’re wondering.
For the most part, I’m used to having sore, puffy feet at this point. It’s old hat. With morning temperatures dipping into the 30’s and 40’s, however, my swollen piggies are getting pretty cold.
A couple weeks ago, Grace and I visited a discount shoe store to find some hard-soled stretchy slippers that might fit my big ole feet.
Normally, I wear a size 12W. I can’t imagine what I’d wear now, but I hoped that the store would have something that might work.
As you might imagine, there were none to be found. On the other hand, the store carries a plethora of sparkly, pink, furry, and princess-themed shoes that interested Grace.
For the first time ever, the clerk at the discount store jumped in and offered to measure Grace’s feet (even though it was completely unnecessary; I’d just had her feet measured a few weeks earlier).
After measuring her feet (incorrectly), the clerk wanted to help Grace try on the shoes of her choice.
The shoes of her choice were $30 pink faux suede princess boots with sparkly hot pink fur trim and pink pompoms.
Grace handed the boots to the clerk, and the clerk tried to put one of them on Grace’s foot.
Wearing one boot, Grace hobbled over to me. Look, Momma! Princess boots! Aren’t they fancy?
“They sure are fancy, honey.”
She held her foot up for me to inspect.
“Wait a minute, Grace. Isn’t this on the wrong foot?”
The clerk looked up. “Is it?”
“Wouldn’t the zipper go on the inside?” I asked critically, noticing that the decorations were on the inside of her foot.
“Do you think so?” she replied. “I just took a bunch of cold medicine, so I’m kind of out of it.”
I wanted to smack her.
She was touching my kid, nose to nose, and she was sick enough to need medicine and be “out of it.”
I really wanted to smack her, but I refrained.
“I think we can handle this on our own. Thank you for your help,” I informed her as nicely as I could manage.
I unzipped the boot, taking in the fact that Grace’s foot didn’t even fit down inside the bottom. No wonder she wasn’t walking properly; she was standing on her toes.
Because Grace was completely enamored by the over-priced discount boots, and because she doesn’t have any boots that fit, I found a pair in a larger size and helped her to put them on.
The larger size fit nicely. Put on the correct feet, the larger boots slid into place and zipped up easily.
Grace danced around the store, twirling and jumping and making the pompoms fly around.
Because she refused to take them off at the store, Grace showed her new boots to her father as soon as she walked in the door.
“Wow, Grace! Those are really fancy!” He told her.
I know, Dad. I love fancy accessories.
He looked at me, one eyebrow arched. “Fancy accessories?” He whispered.
“Fancy Nancy,” I whispered back.
At least one of us is going to have warm toes this winter.
© 2010, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.