so i ordered these really sweet red (almost) toms for you.
i’ve been (im)patiently stalking the USPS woman all week.
i think we’re great friends by now. she’s not so sure.
they finally arrived today. i ripped open the unattractive vacuum sealed shipping bag like a six year old at a christmas box.
and what to my wondering eyes should appear?
i should probably admit, i have absolutely no idea how children’s shoes work.
do the sizes correlate with the age you are when you fit them? how do they know how big your feet will be? you, (un)fortunately, come from an amazon mother with skis for feet.
i’ll guarantee you right now. if that’s how this system works you’ll be wearing these next month.
maybe the size number correlates with the inches of your foot length. have so many questions ever been asked about a child’s foot ware?
i’m sure this could be easily solved by a simple google search. that dude’s brilliant.
but trial and error seems so much more fun.
that way, when your daddy says, ‘what’s with all the shoes?’ i can blame it on the inaccurate sizing of children’s shoe cobblers around the world.
bottom line, they’re much too big for you today.
i’ve been staring at these (not so) baby shoes and wondering. what will you look like when they fit you? will you maybe have some hair? you’ll most likely have found your (decipherable) voice by then. what will it sound like when you call me mama?
i used to pray for my future husband. then my future children. and now the future you.
what obstacles will you be facing in those shoes? will i be a patient mother? will i have learned the art of giving you grace? will i have mastered seeing the world through your eyes and being understanding when it fails you. confuses you. frustrates you.
maybe today it’s time i start praying for the future mother in me. that i will be ready for the little princess whose foot fits that slipper. may it be so by God’s grace alone.