Shoes vs. Children

The "Class Treasurer Heel in Blue" and I were meant to be together. I knew the first time I laid eyes on the pair of funky retro, not too high and not too low heels that they must be mine.

After browsing through the comment section on the shoe website, where everyone attested to the fact that the shoes ran small, and examining the American to European sizing chart (I'm a size 39 in France, evidently), I realized the Class Treasurer Heel in Blue was probably sold out in the size that would fit me best. Still, I had to chance it. I ordered the shoes in the next size down, prepared to send them back, but needing to know, one way or the other, if they could be mine. Besides, the shoes were occupying much of my waking thoughts, as well as the sidebar of my Facebook page. The only way to exorcise the shoes from my consciousness was to buy them.

After 5-7 excruciatingly long days, the shoes arrived. I got my thinest sock: a little nude-colored ped. At first glance, the shoe looked like it wasn't going to fit. The momentary tension was what I imagined filled the room when Cinderella and her sisters tried on the glass slipper. But I didn't let the tension build for long. I slipped my foot into the shoe and it fit perfectly.

Relieved, I set the shoes neatly in a corner where I could admire them for the next few days, and get a feel for all the different outfits I would be wearing them with.

Just looking at them brought me much joy.

Later that night, Jonah came in and asked, "What are those?"

"They' re my new shoes," I told him. "And I love them."

Jonah looked at me a little confused.

"But not as much as I love you." I assured him.

He looked relieved, but then I added, "But it's very, very close."

I laughed and kissed him and let him sleep on the fact that his mom might be passionate about something besides her children every once in a while. Then this morning, as he was leaving for school, I hugged him and told him that in a few weeks, my love for the shoes will diminish. New things are fun and exciting, but they become old quickly.

But my love for him, I insisted, would grow forever and never get old.

Did I redeem myself?

(I do love those shoes.)