Skip to main content

There is nothing so maddening as losing a pair of shoes.

We lost the baby's shoes.

His only pair. Gone.

We looked everywhere. In the closets, under the beds, in the toy box, in the kitchen cabinets. The kid is mobile and loves to put his shoes on and take them off. In fact, he takes them off every single time we're in the car.

So we looked in both vehicles. Under the seats. Under the car seat.


I've asked the girls to look in their rooms. And look in their rooms again.

Especially the Bean. She can be, oh, how shall I say this? A disastrous housekeeper. She could have a live warthog in her bedroom and I'd never find it. So I really zoned in on the Bean.

Did you look in your room? I mean, really look. Like, under things? Behind things?

And still nothing.

Last night I was on a mission to find those shoes. I cleaned. I organized. I set about mumbling passive comments loud enough for everyone to hear.

 I'm going to be so pissed, Bean, if I look in your room and find them!

Okay. Perhaps not so passive.

Big V chimed in, attempting to help, "We had him in your car after picking him up Friday night and I know he had his shoes on then. He had to have taken them off in your car. They must be in your car. Did you look in your car?"

Annoyed, I snipped back, Of course I have looked my car, thankyouverymuch. A thousand times I have looked in my car. My car is empty. In fact, I had the Bean clean out my car Saturday morning when she wanted to borrow it...  wait a second.... Bean. What exactly did you do with the stuff you took out of my car when you cleaned it?

"Oh. I put everything in your trunk."

* silence *


"Well, I didn't know what you wanted me to do with everything so I just threw it all in your trunk."

* stunned silence *
I was stunned. Not her. She was oblivious.

Could you, uh, by chance, go out to the car, open the trunk and see if your brother's shoes are in there?

"Oh, I know his shoes are in there because I saw them when I cleaned out your car and put them in the trunk."

And yet you never thought to mention this at all during the entire week we've been looking for his shoes?

"Well, you never asked me if they were in the trunk."

* crickets *

You know what? How about you just go grab everything out of the trunk of the car and we'll start from there.


HeatherB said…
I have had that EXACT conversation with my husband. Glad you found the shoes though!
Tina, said…
So....? What did she think she was looking for in her room? Please ask her...I really want to know what she says.
Becca said…
Stinking shoes. I'd probably add ten years to my life expectancy if I wasn't responsible for keeping track of two (soon to be three) tiny pairs of sneakers. OMG.

Which is why it's not uncommon for me to take my 2 year old to the grocery store barefoot. We live in Texas. They have to be three before they really have to wear shoes.
I am not laughing at you. I am laughing with you. It's even more maddening when it's your husband that pulls stuff like that, right? I know you feel me.

On a separate note. Isn't it amazing how you have one pair of shoes for your baby boy? My boys usually had 2. One for dress & one for play, but Mia has at least 4 and I'm still on the look out for a cute pair of red Mary Janes. What girl doesn't need a pair of red Mary Janes? I know I do!
Anonymous said…
Did you say to the Bean, "EX-SHOES ME?" I've always wanted to say that, but never seem to have the opportunity.
Brenna said…
But there wasn't a warthog in the trunk right? This very evening I was scrambling around on hands and knees looking for the girl's Easter shoes, because I was dumb enough to let her wear them early. I still haven't found them and we leave at 8am.
Getrealmommy said…
damn. that's all I've got.

Popular posts from this blog

The House that God Built

in·stan·ta·ne·ous /ˌinstənˈtānēəs/ adjective 1. occurring or done in an instant or instantly.
synonyms: immediate, instant, on-the-spot

The thing is, she died so sudden.
I didn't have the chance to plead with God, to make all the irrational promises. If he would just let her be okay.... I would start taking better care of my health. I would be nicer to the neighbor that drove me crazy. I would always let someone else go in front of me at Walmart no matter how long the line was. I wouldn't complain. Ever. I would volunteer at the Homeless Shelter. I would clean up after pigs. I would clip the toenails of the elderly. I would do anything and everything He would ask me to do....
There is a box on her death certificate that captures the amount of time between the initial injury and the time of death. It reads "seconds." I wish it read "instantaneous" because she deserves a clever word like that.
Fast forward five years.... definitely taking MUCH longer than "…

Seeing Avery All Grown Up

One day I'll tell you about the freezing cold we left and the heavy bags we lugged, full of supplies and medicines. I'll tell you about arriving in Port au Prince and walking across a cracked concrete parking lot to board an old school bus with a flat tire. How the heat was suffocating after months of below zero Wisconsin winter weather, how the people crowded and walked too close to moving traffic as we searched for a tire shop that was barely more than a couple men sitting on overturned 5-gallon buckets on the side of the road next to a pile of old tires, everything covered in dirt.

I'll tell you about waiting on the bus while they removed the tire and I'll recall the loud explosion that rocked the bus and scared the life out of me and how I was relieved to learn it was just the tire blowing after being filled too far. (They didn't have any gauges.) And then I'll tell you about the fear I felt when I realized we didn't have a tire and we were stuck on th…

When Your Imagined Life is Nothing Like This One

There were so many ways I imagined my adult life would be....THIS is not one of them.
I posted that on my Facebook wall last night. It might have been seen as funny except my choice of hashtags gave me away:
treading water getting nowhere piles of disappointment not many successes worn out and exhausted out of options

I always imagined my life would be thrilling. Full of exciting adventures and people from all over the world. I would dine at Ethiopian, Thai, and Indian restaurants. I would write books, teach English, coach forensics and direct the play. My husband would be charming and funny and not care about gender roles when it came to household chores. He would beg for at least six kids and I would fall in love with him all over again each time I caught him giving good life advice.
I would take photographs and travel the world documenting the people I came across. I would adopt a sibling group of three or maybe four and work on foster care policies because the ones we have aren't work…