Lucy or Lucifer

Until about 5:30 this late afternoon, I was a cool mom.  Seth, who is so hard on shoes, but legitimately needs a new pair, was given permission to hang out at the middle school playing basketball until I dropped Sam off for his soccer practice at 4:15 and then go with me to the mall to buy a new pair of shoes.

A few weeks ago, I got a $25 off coupon in the mail for Famous Footwear and that was the first place we went.  I thought a few pair looked like they would do...not nerdy but not trendy and his sullen response caused me to respond, “Well, I’m not going to buy you a pair of shoes you so obviously do not want.”  Still not overly frustrated, I suggested we go look in the newly opened TJMaxx at the end of the mall.

They don’t carry boys sneakers.

So we walked to Bealls.  Nothing he wanted.

JC Penney.  Nada.

Determined to end the shoe shopping afternoon successfully, I drove down the road to Big 5.  I sent him in alone with instructions to come get me when he found a pair he liked, (my shoulder and bicep were throbbing from carrying Daniel around in his infant carrier because I forgot the stroller and he was asleep so I left him in it) but he came out ten minutes later shaking his head.

“What kind of shoe do you want???” I asked completely exasperated.  I was under the impression that he wanted a pair of Nike but every single place we went to, minus TJMaxx, had Nikes but obviously not any he wanted.

“Well, Landen has a pair of Freeruns and so do a bunch of other people and I really want a pair of good running shoes that has a built in tongue and.....”

With a certain amount of annoyance in my voice,  I said, “O.K.  But I’m not going to spend a ton of money on a pair of sneakers just because you only want a certain kind.  And you could have told me what you wanted before I spent an hour lugging Daniel around the mall.”

Then, he stopped talking to me.

Just this past weekend, my sister, Emily, asked me if my kids were into brand names.  I proudly declared them not and wonder now if I jinxed myself? What’s up with him needing shoes like his friends?  It’s not like I was going to buy him a dorky pair of Avias or LA Gear.  I’m not clueless.   I miss the ease of shopping for young children or, in actuality, I miss buying what I want them to wear.

Is this an exercise in agency?  I gave it my all...went to five different stores to support his choice but I’m at a point where I want to command, “Here are your shoes!” because I sort of know best.  I looked up these freeruns online and they are kind of wimpy shoes.  Billed as minimal shoes (aka no material used for cushion), they should be cheap but, of course, they are not because apparently, boys want them.  They come in funky bright colors and you can even build your own pair but it all seems like much ado about nothing.  They are shoes.  He’ll destroy them from misuse in a few short months.  His method of shopping is inefficient and painful. I could free him of that pain.  I could choose for him.

Cue the My Turn On Earth soundtrack...now.