footwear

The cute guy at the sporting goods store is probably thinking that I'm stalking him.

I'm not. No. Really. I'm not.

It's just that, last night, as we headed there for what would be my third time in one week, I said, "Geesh, this is my third time to this store in a week!" It started with Chaco. He needed new gym shoes. For gym. The clunky trail shoes he wears most of the time wouldn't quite cut it. Fine. Trip #1.

Remember that blizzard we had last week? It was like the first real snow in months, which is strange for this time of year, but there it was. And after I chewed everyone out for spending too much time playing video games - even though it was a total cabin fever day, that didn't matter - Chaco was whipped into shape enough to actually go out and play with the dog in the blizzard. It was then that he discovered he needed new snowboots. Why? "Because mine are TINY!" Trip #2.

That leaves us at last night. Wolfgang started track practice yesterday. He approached the dinner table holding an old shoe. I knew that wasn't a good sign.

"I need shoes for track and these are falling apart", he cobbled.

"They're good for now", my burned out reply.

"But our first meet isn't very far off", he pressed on.

"Find out what event you're running, then you'll know better what shoes to get", my most logic response.

"Our events are chosen by how we do in practice, so I need good shoes to do well in practice", he circumnavigated.

*SIGH* Trip #3.

There was an old woman who lived to buy shoes...
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