The Horror of Sunday Shoes

Dan's sister is getting married in July, and Magoo is part of the wedding party. They know he's the best one to bring the cuteness, so he shall be decked out in a tiny man suit and a small purple bow tie. The suit I have under control -- but since I'm fairly sure they do not want him to show up wearing sneakers with his dress clothes, I decided that yesterday we needed to do some shoe shopping.

Laylee went next door to play with a neighbor friend so Magoo and I could have a special date to go shopping for exciting things just for him. He was a bit miffed about being left out of the playdate fun, but felt certain that we'd have a great time together shopping for magical Magoolish items and probably rolling around in ice cream.

So we arrived at the shoe store and I said, "Today we are going to buy you some shoes for the wedding." He seemed unfazed by this revelation, his eyes ablaze with all the amazing shoe options before him. Light-up shoes! McQueen light-up shoes! Shoes with scary dinosaurs on them! Amazing shoes in every shape and color! He sat down on the bench and stuck out his feet for the trying on. "I hope they light up good," he said.

"These are shoes for the wedding," I restated, pulling out an orange box containing a pair of plain black shiny shoes.

"I know," he said confidently.

I pulled out the shoes and his mouth dropped open. "Those look like CHURCH shoes!"

"Yep. They're for the wedding."

"But I don't want any church shoes. They don't light up and they're BORING!"

I tried them on anyway. Too small. He was so relieved. I went to get another pair and he grinned. If the church shoes were too small, he'd certainly get something much more awesomely appropriate for the wedding. I pulled out an identical orange box and brought it towards him. I wondered why he was grinning this time.

I opened the box.

"Those look like CHURCH shoes TOO!" he moaned.

"Yes. That's because they're the same shoes in a different size."

He dropped his head to his chest, defeated. When we tried on the third pair, also an identical pair of CHURCH SHOES, I think he gave up a little bit of his will to live.

It must be really frustrating to state what you want over and over again, only to have your mother, the person with all the control and spending power, tell you repeatedly, "Yeah. I know but we're buying something else."

After our purchase was made, we moved on to the rest of our exciting errands -- the craft store, the office supply store, the toy store where we bought nothing for him, the post office, and Eddie Bauer to do an exchange. By Eddie Bauer, it was clear that the tears coming out of his eyes were genuine despair. This special mommy date had been one of the most agonizing experiences of his life.

So I took 10 minutes to let him play at the outdoor mall's kiddie water park and then tossed him an ice cream cone dipped in waxy butterscotch product. The shoes became a distant memory and our friendship was restored. I hope he doesn't have flashbacks every time he wears them. It was a long and trying day -- for everyone.