I found myself in the shoe store today, buying my kid a new pair of sneakers for the fourth time this year. He’s grown from a youth 6 ½ to a men’s 8 since the fall. I got him a nice pair six months ago, but they’re trashed. They’re trashed because he’s a boy and he only owns one pair of shoes and he wears them every day (sometimes without socks, so I now fine him $1 when I catch him without them). Eventually, his shoes start to smell, and I’m forced to replace them because Febreeze only goes so far. This time, I said, “I’m not buying you a $100 pair of shoes!”. But after struggling to find a pair in his size, the next thing I knew, I was swiping my debit card for the latest diamond-studded pair.
It reminded me of one time when he was about seven, and we were grocery shopping, and he was begging for something in every single aisle. “Mommy, can I get fruit snacks?” “Mommy, can I get Capri Sun?” “Mommy, can I get Rice Krispie Treats?” He already had about a quart of corn syrup in his daily diet, so I kept saying “No…No…No….” But then we got to the cereal aisle. We actually did need some cereal. So this time, when he asked, I said “Yes.” His eyes lit up. He squeezed his hand in a tight little fist, pumped his arm, and smiled brilliantly as he blurted out, “Gotcha!”