this morning noah insisted that NONE of the dozen pairs of shoes he has were proper attire for a pre-k boy such as he was going to be. none were "cool" enough and most definitely not "fast" enough for the task. i promised him that if he just wore the plain (darling) pair of blue canvas shoes i chose, just for today that i would let him choose some new ones at the store tonight.
as we perused the aisle of size 12.5 shoes i saw a few pairs that were adorable, a few more that would be passable, and then, as i heard the shrieks of delight from my four-year-old, i saw the gaudy, loud, ironman, light up shoes. i tried the motherly persuasion of showing him the virtues of all the other pairs. how cool they were and fast they looked and wouldn't he like to just try them on? noah would not be moved. he was in love and there was no changing his mind. he reminded me that i said he could choose and these were his choice. (as i'm typing this i'm feeling an eerie sense of "pre-dejavu" thinking i may feel some of these feelings when he chooses a girlfriend or a wife. oh dear. promptly stuffing that thought to the back of my consciousness)
i grudgingly walked to the register and paid for these wretched shoes i know did NOT match his uniform or my understated taste. the giddy boy next to me had already put them on his feet and lifted his foot to have the security device removed. we (well, he) skipped to the van and we began the drive home. from the back seat i hear him ask "mom? will these shoes grow?" i told him, no, they would not. he immediately asked, greatly perplexed, "then how will i wear them when i'm a grown-up?!"
sigh. i guess they're not THAT bad.