Today I ran over to the coffee shop next door only to be met with a mob-like gaggle of small children ages 4 to 6 (best guess).
I found myself tempted to judge which kid was cutest so I avoided their faces. Where do you look when you're avoiding a little kid's face? Why, at their shoes of course.
And that's when it hit me:
Pink glittery TOMS
Fuzzy Ugg booties
Shiny new Nikes
On the feet of these children were hundreds—no thousands—of dollars worth of shoes. Shoes that will be outgrown in mere flashes of the eye.
For a moment I thought, "Gawd why even bother shoe-ing your kids at all?" Which might be a "bad" way to "feel" or "think" about "children".
Is it the waste that's bothering me or is it the fact that I finally identify with my mother who continued to buy my shoes a size or two up so that I could grow into them (a good two years after my feet stopped growing), asked the lady with the really warped maternal instinct who talks to her dog in a demented baby voice and dresses her in figure-skating apparel.