Shoe Man

I was taught, at a very young age, that good, solid shoes needed to fit correctly (one thumb from the tip of the shoe) and constantly be in excellent condition and if they should ever break down, wear out, rip, etc. it will, in fact, change your entire spinal alignment and those shoes should be donated (to some poor sap who wonder's why the Goodwill sneakers she relies on give her a bad back) immediately. Seriously. You can't make this stuff up.

My father has always been in the shoe business, at least as long as I've known him. He is funny, smart, caring, and generous to a fault. In fact, our best man's speech at our wedding talked about when he met my parents, my dad opened the door and said, "What size are you?" while shaking his hand.

Best Man had no idea my dad was a shoe man and didn't know wether to punch him or rattle off his neck/sleeve numbers, inseam, waist, and anything else important, as this was the Father of the Bride and maybe if you gave him your size he would pay for the tux? Mr. (at that point, Fiance) explained my dad was known to give away shoes to anyone and everyone he meets (ask our cleaning lady, my sorority sisters, dry cleaners, and our wedding planner if you don't believe me) and within minutes my dad was on his ottoman-turn-shoe store fitting seat and was fitting Best Man into a few comfy pairs of trainers, runners, and boots.

This was normal in my house and until Mr. came along I never knew this didn't happen in most homes. It never dawned on me that Stephen's dad, who owned a local tennis club wasn't having you try out different rackets each time we were over, or a family friend who was a big wig at Victoria's Secret didn't have fitting rooms and a way to measure cup sizes in his foyer, but it just seemed normal that everyone was this generous and giving to the people around them.

My dad is endearing and everyone speaks highly of him, without a single pause, and loves his advice.

So, when it came time to get Zoe new shoes, it always falls on Bobsa and TT to fit and purchase very expensive shoes that will grow with the child, not mold or impression young bones, and make the child a genius (read the box). This would be easier if they lived within 1000 miles of Des Moines, but they are beach front on the West Coast loving the So Cal sun. So, TT came to town and noticed Zoe was in need of new shoes. So, they got four new pairs.

Zoe still had her heart set on a pair of glittery, gaudy train wrecks that she HAD TO HAVE. The kind of shoes that make momma's cringe and little girls cry over. TT offered to pay the $75 at Von Maur for them, but I begged her not to spend more than $20 on "disposable" shoes. Trust me, at the first rip, tear, or scuff they will be deemed unusable by momma and have to go to the poor kids, as Z calls Goodwill.

My mom shuddered and let out an animal-like sound as we walked into PayLess. This had happened one other time in my life, when I was in a small town desperate for black heels for a good friend's funeral. The blisters scarred my tender toes and I've since tried to erase it from my memory. Anyways, PayLess had a pair of silver glitter horrors that would make Dorothy's ruby reds look dull. So, we braved the cheap pleather-filled aisles and found The Shoes.

And Zoe did a little dance, twinkle in her eye, and fell in love.

I swear I heard her utter, "Hello, Lover!"

Seeing as she had them on faster than she has ever gotten a shoe on in her life - and on the appropriate feet - we knew we were hosed.

She threw her foot out so fast she tripped a little and said, "Check 'em out! Sparkly shoes!"

TT opened up her phone, dialed Bobsa, and said, "We have a problem" while explaining the situation. Bobsa urged us to trek back up the mall, past the play land, and the pretzel store, which ultimately, is like asking a soldier to race back through a mine field just for shits and giggles, with a few "$75 for correct spinal alignment is nothing!"s and we were dismayed. Then Zoe grabbed the phone.

"Bobsa! Bobsa! I got sparkly shoes! Real real ones! Dey are GORGEOUS!" and after she dropped the phone with a kiss on the mouthpiece, TT asked, "What do I do?"

And Bobsa said...

"Get them in every color!"

And that was how we knew, without a doubt, that the shoe man had yet another lady love in his life.