New shoes

I took Lyla to Target today. She squealed and babbled and ran all around, and I chased her and tickled her; it was hilarious. To other shoppers I must have looked like some combination of the incompetent father and the fun uncle.

Then we finally made our way to the shoe department, which was the reason for the trip in the first place: Lyla needs shoes with hard soles on Monday, as opposed to those baby slippers she loves so much. So I found a decently cute pair and put them on her, stood her up, and watched her crumble into a weeping, whining pile of a child. She clung to me and lifted each leg alternately, as though crocodiles were trying to nip off her toes.

I persisted in stuffing her into pair after pair, failing each time to compel the young lady to walk even one step. Finally I gave up and bought the pair I thought fit best.

At home I put them on her, and she loved them!


Just kidding, she hated them.

Auntie Jen was over, teaching Julie how to sew. Sometimes people ask me what it's like to be married to someone with an identical twin sister. Today it was like walking in on two lookalikes sewing.

But as I flopped onto the couch exhausted from my hour of shoe wrestling, Julie and Jen taught Lyla how to coexist peacefully with her shoes. How? They lured her around the room with treats, like a dog.




And now she's a big girl and likes her shoes just fine.