Oh, the second milestone. Shoes, yes shoes. I took Dorian to get his basketball shoes for the season. He is very particular about his shoes, well about everything. But we finally found a pair he liked, with rockets and flubber gel, super jump springs,weighing only one ounce, and they had 7 years same as cash. So that means we can have them paid off by the time he graduates college.
We ordered up his 10 1/2 to 11, the same size his dad wears. He put them on and they looked great, but he said they were a little tight. So the shoe man said “let’s measure his feet” He slid his sock covered feet into the flat metal foot device and after some minor adjustments the salesman proclaims ” he is closer to 11 1/2″. What? That cannot be! He cannot have bigger feet than his dad! So I chortled, “let me see that thing” and slid my sock covered foot into it; 10 1/2 to 11. No one told me that my 15-year-old kid would ever have bigger feet than me, ever be taller than me, no one. It had never ever occurred to me that my 15-year-old would be unable to fit into my shoes. How could this be? He is still several inches shorter than me, and about 200 pounds lighter.
at least mine smell better!
Then I recalled a day, many years and many follicles ago, sitting in the lobby of Bethel Regional High School, socializing with friends. I plopped my size 10/12 foot up on the coffee table, and those next to me exclaimed “holy smokes, dude you have huge feet. You are going to be a giant!”. Obviously I am not a giant, but I do know that I have worn the same size shoes since my freshman year of High School; so I wonder if Dorian will have the same fate?
So now you know the second milestone is that my first child now has bigger shoes to fill than his dad. What is even more frightening is that I still have three boys to go. The good news, when he is done with a pair of shoes, I can borrow them. I may look like a clown, but I am old enough now that I don’t care.
At least mine are much warmer, and much less gnarly I might add.
