Ahhh the poor kid. He doesn't stand a chance. He grew up with me as a mother. I am an admitted Shoeaholic. We're talking hundreds. I have over 10 pairs of black high heels alone. My sister, she is a shoeaholic too. It seems only normal that my child that was forced to go shopping with the sister and I would be a shoe fiend as well, right?
Well the boy felt the urge for new shoes as he was shopping with me, for what else, shoes. He knows just the right button to push to get me to contribute to his habit. He actually needed a new pair of running shoes, so we go to the sporting goods store named for the male genitalia. At this point I say, "Sonny o' mine, make sure you have a right and a left and they are the same size." Ahhh it is good, now it is off for pleasure shoe shopping.
We skeedaddle over to the "other side" of the mall and ahhhhh the shoe store. I am busy perusing the pumps and platforms and he is off doing his own thing. As I am deciding how I can possibly be buried in this section of Nordy's he comes trotting over with his little nugget of shoelove. We purchase our latest little hit of leather Ecstasy and trot off home.
Now young son is a bit fussy about his clothes. He wants just the right look. Whilst driving home I could practically see his fashion plates being shifted to get the right look for the new shoes. We get home and young son gallops in the house anxious to show off to his stepfather his newest addition to the addiction. He goes and gets them laced, and I don't know if you know this or not, there is a STYLE to the shoelaces. He puts on the outfit (yes, outfit, metrosexual anyone) and gets ready to slide his feet into nirvana. Ohhhh, right foot in leather and shoelace. Left foot...left foot...what the???
Young son has 2 right shoes.
Poor kid...he is born with a defective gene.
Friday, May 2, 2008
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