Mad:  You buy shoes at least twice a year.  You have more shoes than anyone in this family.

Sugar Daddy:  I think what I like about shoes is that it’s the one area of men’s fashion you can have a little fun with.  I try not to be too gay about shoes, though.

Mad:  Gay-for-shoes is not a “thing,” SD.


My husband and I went shoe shopping last night.  We had to buy new shoes for Japan.  Even though I was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to wear shoes in Japan!  Shows what I know.  But seriously, we had to buy new shoes because we’re going hiking while we’re in Japan–both Japan and Madhousewife being known for their great hiking–and SD had no suitable hiking shoes.  I, as it turned out, had suitable hiking shoes, because in 2000 I actually bought a pair of athletic shoes (for the purpose of athletic activities!) which I have since worn perhaps a grand total of 47 times, which is not actually that much in shoe years.  So there was that.  But the shoe store was having a BOGO 1/2 off sale, so someone else besides SD had to get shoes, and that someone else may as well have been me.

I happen to love shoes, but I don’t buy a lot of them because a) I’m picky and b) I’m cheap.  (I was going to say I was speaking financially there, but then I realized, huh! yeah, right.)  I do enjoy just looking at shoes.  I appreciate shoe design in a way that not everyone else does.  For example, my daughter hates to go into shoe stores with me because I am constantly holding up shoes and saying, “Look at this, Princess Zurg!  Is this not the most adorable footwear you have ever seen?”  And she’s like, “Yeah, it’s fine.  Can we go now?”  I have somewhat of a heel fetish.  I do love a unique heel.  But I digress.

I was shopping for shoes of a more practical nature last night, as I have plenty of the less-practical nature.  My favorite shoes of the practical nature are wearing out.  I recently got another pair that is exactly like them except for the color, which is white, which was the only color they had them in or I might not have bought them, but they are just so comfortable, you see.  Anyway, I don’t mind the white shoes, but white shoes cannot be for all occasions, not even practical ones.  So I was searching for darker shoes of the more practical nature.  I was torn between the adorable Nikes of great comfort but not-so-dark color and the not-quite-as-adorable-but-still-attractive Pumas of similar comfort but superior darkness.

In the end I opted for slightly-less-adorable-but-darker shoes, and I am not sorry I did.  I tried them on several times in the store–Nike, Pumas, Nikes, Pumas–and I believe I made the correct choice.  But today as I am breaking them in I am noticing a discrepancy between in-store comfort and out-of-store comfort.  Perhaps I am wearing the wrong socks.  I will tell you more of my sock fetish another time.

So today is St. Patrick’s Day.  I’m not really into St. Patrick’s Day as a holiday.  I do happen to own a leprechaun Snoopy t-shirt, so sue me.  But that’s not the story I was going to tell you.  Elvis has been really into calendars for the last year or so.  He has to X off all the days that have transpired and write down all the days that school is out.  He goes into the church library with me and X’s out the days on the library calendar and writes down the days there are no school.  Last month he wrote down my sister’s birthday on the library calendar.  Fortunately, there is nothing that actually goes on the church library calendar, so I don’t think anybody minds that Elvis has co-opted it for his own purposes.  (I don’t believe anyone in my ward sent foo4luv a gift, though.)  Anyway, Elvis is really into calendars and he’s been looking forward to St. Patrick’s Day ever since Valentine’s Day ended.  He taped a gold coin to the 17th on our calendar at home.

Yesterday he came home from school and started talking about St. Patrick’s Day.  “It’s Patrick’s Day tomorrow!” he said.

“Yes,” I said, “tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day.  Very exciting.”

“It’s Patrick’s Day!” he said more urgently.  Over and over he kept saying, “Patrick’s Day!” and “I need to write the names!” and finally he said, “I need Very Hungry Caterpillar!”  Well, we made Very Hungry Caterpillar cards for Valentine’s Day.  (Previously, on I am the Giraffe…)  So I said, “You want to make cards for St. Patrick’s Day?”  (Mother is quick on the uptake, let me tell you.)

“Make cards!” he said, greatly relieved that he did not have to draw me a picture.  So I printed out some Very Hungry Caterpillar pictures for him to make St. Patrick’s Day cards (which, as far as I know, is also not a “thing,” but I wasn’t about to try to tell him that at that point).  So he made cards and wrote all the names of his classmates on them, and then he decided he needed to give them something more.  And for reasons I still don’t understand, he decided that the something more should be Ziploc bags filled with decorative candy sprinkles.  By the time I figured out what the heck he was doing, he had already made a dozen bags and was really super-proud of himself.  Because I’ve had these sprinkles in my cupboard for years, I wasn’t particularly sorry to part with them, but I could just imagine the look on a first grader’s face when his classmate hands him a bag of sprinkles and wishes him a happy St. Patrick’s Day.  (Not to mention the look on any neighboring adult’s face when she sees fourteen seven-year-olds armed with bagfuls of candy sprinkles.  It could be a problem.)  At the time I couldn’t think of any way to talk him out of the scheme, so I did what I do best, which was leave it for his father to deal with when he got home.

So SD was able to talk Elvis into giving his friends some actual candy with their St. Patrick’s Day cards, which seemed a little less random, but he was not able to talk Elvis out of the candy sprinkles.  It was, apparently, a dream that he could not let die.  So I sent him to school today with Pez taped to St. Patrick’s Day cards taped to Ziploc bags of candy sprinkles and a note to his teacher saying, essentially, “I’m…sorry?”  Because what else could I do?

The comments section is where you write your shoe- and St. Patrick’s Day- and random childhood behavior-related anecdotes, should you feel like sharing.  A comment combining all three elements–shoes, St. Patrick’s Day, and random childhood behavior–gets the most points.  Points counting toward what, you might ask.  Well, that just shows you haven’t been reading the blog for very long.  This is all for my own amusement.  The only thing you get out of it is ten seconds of fame on a web site visited by approximately 12-16 people per day.  If you think you can do better elsewhere, go ahead and try.  And now, gentle readers, I must adieu.

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