Monday, February 11, 2013

Doubting Daddy, or, Always Look In Your Shoes

I was home with the Boy and the Baby this morning. It was a pretty uneventful morning, for the most part. The Baby was being her normal self at breakfast, eating a few bites of whatever I gave her, and then throwing the rest of it over the side of her high chair to the waiting jaws of our two dogs. The Boy was also acting normally, which means he was eating as slowly as is humanly possible. Both he and the Girl have gone through phases where they took half a day to eat their breakfast. Thankfully the Girl has outgrown that phase for the most part, and hopefully the Boy will soon, as well.

The three of us eventually finished eating our breakfast and moved onto the next part of the morning. For the Boy, that meant it was time to find his shoes and socks and put them on. Usually that gets done before breakfast, but for some reason he came to the breakfast table shoeless this morning.

After a brief search for his shoes and socks, we found them downstairs in the bedroom that the two older kids share, right next to their brand new bunk beds that they slept in for the first time last night. I sat down on the floor, "criss-cross applesauce" style, as my kids call it, and the Boy sat down on my lap. We proceeded to get his socks and shoes on, and I sent him on his way to go play with his trains.

After a couple minutes, he came up to me, complaining that his shoe hurt. The shoes he was wearing are pretty much brand new, and they are plenty big, so I knew that they couldn't be too tight. I loosened the Velcro and refastened it, and sent him back on his way.

He came back a couple of minutes later, again complaining about his shoe. In my mind I was thinking that he was making it all up. He's been known to have some major difficulties giving up his old shoes for new ones, no matter how tattered, torn, and too small they might be, so I figured he was trying to dupe me into letting him have his old shoes back. I was going to have none of that.
The Boy found quite a surprise in his shoe this morning...
After rolling my eyes, I took his shoe off and worked it in my hands a little while, to show him that I was loosening it up, and then put it back on his foot. Immediately, he began to complain again. Full-blown agitation was welling up inside me, but I calmed myself down and had him take his shoe off again.

He did that, but this time he decided to look inside the shoe. He reached in to pull something out; I figured it would be a tiny wad of shoe lint or some other inconsequential piece of fluff. Instead he pulled out a nice sharp screw. I recognized it as being an extra one from the new bunk beds. Needless to say, that was what was causing the discomfort. And, also needless to say, I felt a little sheepish about not believing him the first time. Thankfully the screw didn't cause any real damage. If his new shoes had been punctured I would have felt terrible!

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