Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Damn you, flip flops.

You are the choice of shoe for my 6-year old, and I hate you.  You are the reason that the soles of her feet are now permanently black.  I blame you for her skinned knee last week on the way to school and this morning for the twisted ankle because you provide absolutely. no. shock. support.  So I had to drag my daughter a block and a half to school with a few "we've all been there"'s and "rough morning, huh"'s tossed my way as she screamed at the top of her lungs.  And it's all your fault.  I would like to hurl you into the fire pit this evening while I have a stiff drink to celebrate.  But I know the power you have over my child and that would reduce us to hillbillies the next day when she walked in barefoot to school.  My search for a replacement for you has cost me lots of cash - Five Fingers for kids, indoor soccer shoes, many a pair from Stride Rite.  I know this is strong, but I might hate this aspect of her Asperger's/Sensory stuff more than the withholding of stools.  Yes, I may despise you more than cleaning up poop. 

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