No shoes, no service

I make a mental checklist before I leave the house with my kids. Snacks. Check. Drinks. Check. Sunblock. Check. Apparently, I need to add shoes to the list. I ignored my own advice that “it goes without saying” never applies to children.

I decided to take my children to a local amusement park after work. It was a spontaneous decision based on guilt. Another Mom posted a picture on Facebook of their “perfect day.” Oh yeah, watch this b**ch. I raced home, packed a bag in record time and told the kids to jump in the car. I expected my children to be bursting at the seams with excitement. During the 45 minute drive to the park, my teenage son complained that he couldn’t bring a friend. My 4-year-old whined about having to go in the water. My usually negative 7-year-old son was the only one who was excited. He was so excited that he forgot to put on shoes. Who does that? He walked from the house, through the garage and into the car. At no point, while tiptoeing on the cement, did it dawn on him that he was barefoot? I didn’t realize he was shoeless until I parked the car. “Oh, Mom,” he said “I don’t have any shoes on.” Translation: “Hey Mom, I am about to f**k up your day. Good luck solving this problem since we are an hour away from home!” If I left now my daughter would lose her mind. The inner child in me wanted to stomp my feet and cry. I took a deep breath, “It’s okay. I will buy flip flops inside. ” He climbed into the wagon and we made our way to a gift shop. It had flip flops to fit everyone from “The Littles” to “The Jolly Green Giant,” but not the size we needed. Are there a lot of grown men in a size 13 forgetting to wear shoes, too or is the person ordering inventory a Kardashian? We continued on through the park. I was desperate and even thought about swiping a pair of shoes from a bench. I could just borrow them. I said I thought about it. I didn’t do it. Luckily, another gift shop had water shoes in his size.

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It turned out to be a great day. There is nothing better than the sound of your child’s laughter. Of course, I will edit this story for Facebook omitting anything negative. You can’t tell the truth to “friends” you haven’t spoken to in twenty years.

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