Sunday night, we left Pensacola right at Reese's bedtime. I thought I had looked in every room before we left, checking for stray belongings, but i was mistaken. About 45 minutes after departure, Mama text me to say that she had found Reese's shoes in her room.
Hell's bells.
You see, Reese has boxy feet. Wide, yes, but also tall. Does that make sense? He can't just wear any old shoe. In fact, the only running shoes I've found that fit his feet are New Balance-- extra wide. He also has his boots, but he's really attached to his tennis shoes lately.
No problem, fabulous Mama said she'd take them to UPS and get them sent our way lickety split. Except UPS really values their services these days, if you know what I mean. Yikes on shipping costs! Scratch that plan and on to option B. Mama gave me her debit card number to buy Reese some new shoes. Three cheers for Mama and for endless.com {free overnight shipping?, yes please}.
His new shoes arrived Wednesday. Shiny, new tennis shoes. {Do you remember how exciting it was to get new shoes when you were younger? I always wore white keds, but i digress.} Reese, of course, put them on immediately. He insists they make him run faster, kick higher, and jump taller. Oh to be three!
Flash forward to Thursday afternoon when I arrived at school to find him with a bruised eye, ice bag on face. I'm pretty much a pro at signing accident reports for this kid, so I breezed through it and we got in the car.
I asked him, "Buddy, what happened to your eye?" His reply? "Mama, my new kicks make me run so fast that I just runned right into Rankin!" I about died. And to follow that he told me, "And there was nobody at school to love on me. I think I need a treat." And so we went to Target. What? Don't judge me.
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