Back to shoes

My oldest daughter boobear needed new church shoes this past weekend and I needed to find some way cool shoes to go with my new skirt. I decided to take along the other girls. Little jellybean informed me that she did not have any church shoes that fit either and needed some new ones. So I helped her look for some too. It didn't go too well. Jellybean has a mind of her own and is a distant relative of the 6th dwarf in Snow White, Grumpy. The combination makes me want to scream and pull my hair at the same time. And then go drink something strong. Like a Dr. Pepper.

So after looking at several stores, pulling her through the departments, and trying to ignore the whining, I decided that I was done with her and she would be going home. As soon as we got to the car. And drove there. After I deposited her on the doorstep and went to get in the car, she decided to go onto the front deck and yell at me. "What am I supposed to wear for church, huh mom? I don't have ANY shoes!" And if that wasn't enough, after being ignored, she thought she'd call me. (Imagine an ultra-whiny voice, with a hint of snotty.) "Mom, what am I going to wear, all my shoes are too small and hurt my feet. You said I could get some shoes. Why did you take me home if I can get some shoes?"

So, since I drove to the next store laden with guilt, I found her a pair of shoes and brought them home. (I paid for them first.) Did she like them? Oh, hello! Of course not. So now I have to take back the shoes and find her more. Except, and this is the best part...I found three pairs of church shoes, one pair of brown dress boots, and one pair of black dress boots...all in her closet. They were carefully hidden, but I found them. Isn't she cute?

Toothpaste and other squeezables

My two year old dear son likes to squeeze toothpaste. He likes to squeeze it on the floor, on his hands, and any other available surface he can get to before he is caught. Since the toothpaste is now up high from his reach, he has ventured into other squeezables. We found honey squirted on the new wood floor in the kitchen. I found jam from a newly purchased bottle (you'd think I'd have caught on by now and stopped buying squeezable bottles) blobbed onto the living room floor. I have a proud red stain to mark that location.

Something interesting happened last night. My five year old son got up to go to the bathroom after being in bed. A few minutes later I walked past the bathroom and found him with the bottle of soft soap (the foamy kind) - he was making a line across the threshold into the hallway with the soap. Our conversation went something like this: "How come you are putting soap on the floor? Did that look dirty to you?" to which he replied, "Yes, I fought it was diwty and I was cweaning it." "That's nice of you, but I think you better wipe it off now. Next time you see something dirty, ask first, okay?" (I handed him a rag to wipe with.)

It makes me wonder. Not what was going through my older son's mind. I wonder that too. But it makes me think back to all those times when we found "stuff" squeezed all over. Was it really my little boy, or was my older son getting away with something?

Cat Reincarnated

Last year our adopted cat Abbey was hit by a car. I found her after walking the kids to school. (I was so happy they didn't see her.) Anyway...fast forward two months. This cat appears in our backyard. Our fenced in back yard. She looks like Abbey. Exactly. The kids come running in the house - "Mom, Abbey is alive!" We have a talk about how cats can't come back alive. Well, apparently they had a Sunday School lesson about Jesus raising Lazarus (spelling? I'm too lazy to check) from the dead. Another talk about how cats don't come back alive.

She still roams the neighborhood. We left food on the front porch for her. The neighbor dog ate it. (Why do dogs like cat food better than their own?) We stopped leaving food. After all, it's okay to feed our reincarnated cat - just not the neighbor's dog. I'm deviating. Anyway, we see this cat all the time. My kids still remark "there's Abbey" when they see her. Maybe she really did come back. I'm just glad we didn't bury her in the backyard.