"Ow. My shoes are hurting my toes," the Kid informed us last Saturday.
For some things we just go straight to bribe, and new shoes are one. "How about we go get you some new shoes? And then frozen yogurt, after? Yes?" So, we loaded up in the stroller and headed downtown for new shoes.
And then the Kid fell asleep on the way.
Not to be deterred, we pushed the (double-wide) stroller into the (crazy narrow door of the) shoe store anyway, where a very resourceful shoe salesman took the situation in stride. He measured the Kid's foot, tried on two sets of shoes, felt for toe half a dozen times, and got us out the door with some new Keens--all without waking the Kid up.
Of course, eventually, the Kid did wake up. And--also, of course--he hated the shoes. He wouldn't even wear them to get his frozen yogurt. :(
No matter, though. Like military commanders of old, I've learned to burn the ships to prevent retreat. That is, when we get a new pair of shoes, the old pair promptly disappears.
"You wanna go to school today and play with your friends? New shoes it is!" I cheerfully announced on Monday morning.
The Kid grumbled and whined and gave me dirty glares as we walked into the coffee shop where we're regulars, but he was happily distracted when his buddies (a wonderful bunch of retirees, who are also regulars) were there to chat.
"Nice shoes!" Regular Guy Number One said.
There was more discussion about them, I'm sure, but I can't relate the exact words as I was singularly focused on ordering my lifeblood...er, skim honey latte. What I do know is that, as we got into the car, the Kid was beaming.
"I love these shoes!" he told me three times on the way to school.
I could be annoyed that our parental opinion of his shoes means nothing, but instead I choose to see the good in this situation. Even if it does take a village to get the Kid to wear new shoes, at least we have that village in place apparently, yes?