Saturday, we had a perfect opportunity to get our wedding shoes. It was a gorgeous day and we were in the city and Shoe Carnival was having a sale.
Hadley is difficult to buy for because she wants to wear shoes that don't stand out and are comfy. She wanted to wear Chuck Taylor's to the wedding. When I tried to push her toward some cuter, more stylish shoes, she dug in her heels (figuratively and literally) and decided she wouldn't buy any shoes at all. We compromised, though. She'll be wearing a pair of my shoes and she can slip them off under the table when she's not walking anywhere--which will be all night long because she's a wall-flower like that.
Briley is difficult to buy for because she wants stripper heels.
That's right, my eleven year old, athletic, funny daughter wanted some six-inch, rhinestone studded heels. I vetoed them without any discussion.
She then chose some hideous grandma-type shoes which I said, "Really? Do you think you'll like those?" And she shook her head no before trotting off and returning with her original pair.
As if I would forget the stripper heels my fifth grader wanted to wear.
She returned defeated. "He said no then he went to the car." (Who's chickening out now?)
I argued the softball bit--if she fell off of those suckers, her season was done as we would try repairing her ankle. This caused her to pause, but ultimately the shoes were way sparkly.
I argued that if the Department of Human Services saw her wearing them, her daddy and I would go to jail. She shrugged it off.
I promised to take her to Target and buy her two pair of shoes if she'd just put the stripper heels down.
She got a pair of fleece-lined sequined moccasins, a pair of pink canvas, Tom's-like shoes, and a pair of black flat sandals.
Three pairs? Yep. They were on sale, and Target had stripper heels too. I had to up my ante.