One of the things that I love to do is read to my kids. We love to climb into my favorite chair with a soft, warm blanket and snuggle together as I read. One of the stories that I read to Sleepy lately is The Elves and the Shoemaker.
Sometimes, I wonder if the boy listens to me, but yesterday I was pleasantly surprised.
In the morning, we visited the library and I noticed my oldest son, Bashful, walking around with his shoes only half on. When I noticed his heels sticking out, I said, "Bashful! Put your shoes on the right way, please." He glumly said, "They don't fit."
Now, I'm sure the child has told me this before, but since he is not the whiner and complainer that his younger brothers can be, I was totally clueless. Of course, I felt bad and told him we will go and get him new tennishoes immediately.
He was happy and relieved to hear this news, I'm sure.
So, off we went to the shoe store and once we went inside, a nice lady behind the counter asked if we needed a shoe sizing. I thought that was a good idea and we took Bashful to the back of the store.
His old shoes were a size 3 and I ended up having to get him men's size 5 1/2. I said contritely, "Bashful, you've been suffering in these shoes for a while, haven't you?" He matter-of-factly said, "Yes," and yet I didn't feel like he was indicating that I was a bad mother.
I felt crummy all the same.
When we came home, Sleepy was talking to his father about our day. I asked, "Sleepy? Where did we go today?"
He took some time to think about it and I asked, "Do you remember the nice lady we talked to?"
"Oh!" he exclaimed. "The shoemaker!"
Sometimes, I wonder if the boy listens to me, but yesterday I was pleasantly surprised.
In the morning, we visited the library and I noticed my oldest son, Bashful, walking around with his shoes only half on. When I noticed his heels sticking out, I said, "Bashful! Put your shoes on the right way, please." He glumly said, "They don't fit."
Now, I'm sure the child has told me this before, but since he is not the whiner and complainer that his younger brothers can be, I was totally clueless. Of course, I felt bad and told him we will go and get him new tennishoes immediately.
He was happy and relieved to hear this news, I'm sure.
So, off we went to the shoe store and once we went inside, a nice lady behind the counter asked if we needed a shoe sizing. I thought that was a good idea and we took Bashful to the back of the store.
His old shoes were a size 3 and I ended up having to get him men's size 5 1/2. I said contritely, "Bashful, you've been suffering in these shoes for a while, haven't you?" He matter-of-factly said, "Yes," and yet I didn't feel like he was indicating that I was a bad mother.
I felt crummy all the same.
When we came home, Sleepy was talking to his father about our day. I asked, "Sleepy? Where did we go today?"
He took some time to think about it and I asked, "Do you remember the nice lady we talked to?"
"Oh!" he exclaimed. "The shoemaker!"
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