The Hell that is Shoe Shopping for Kids

I am a woman. I love shoe shopping. The two always go hand in hand, or so I thought.

Once Megan was old enough to pick out her own shoes, I knew something wasn't right. I mean, she likes trying on women's super high stilettos that are usually only worn by strippers and tiny Asian gals. No offense. She HATES trying on real shoes for herself.

This is a problem when a new school year is about to start, and the only tennis shoes in the closet are too tight with holes in the soles.

Knowing what a chore it would be to find her new tennis shoes for school by August 12th, we started back in June while on vacation. We spent an hour at an outlet mall on our way down south, with high hopes that she'd find something at one of the 3 tennis shoe stores.

Yeah right.

The Nike tennis shoes all came up too high on the ankle. 

This crushed me. I mean, LOOK at how DARLING those black and hot pink shoes are!!! I should have bought a pair for myself just out of spite. How were we able to walk away from those? I'm still shaking my head, which is bad, because it's been 3 months and people are starting to think I have a tick.

On to the Sketchers store where NOTHING worked. Not even the to-the-knee-high-tops with like 6 rhinestone buckles, which would have been PERFECTLY PRACTICAL for outdoor PE in 110 degree weather. Of course, just when I thought all hope was lost, she spotted a $65 style containing some kind of magical memory foam inserts. Praise GOD they didn't have her size, because I would have been willing to skip several meals or hitchhiked the rest of the way to San Diego if it meant that the shoe shopping torment would come to an end.

The last stop was the Vans store.

Here's the deal with Vans: Megan has wanted a pair for a long time, but apparently all the surfers and skaters who WEAR Vans have wide feet. Like WIDE feet. Unfortunately, Megan inherited my narrow arrows. Not that that stopped her from dragging us to 3 different stores in the mall several months ago, convinced that one store would carry different widths of Vans than another store.

Alright, so with that Vans history, I was fairly confident that searching the Vans outlet store was a major waste of time as well as a meltdown waiting to happen.

Shocker: I was right.

Not sure if she tried on 3 or 300 pairs, all I know is that they all "slipped" in the back where her narrow heels tried their best to be all wide and stuff. Make no mistake, Vans cannot be fooled.

So we headed back to the car before her frustration could boil over and ruin our then 2 hour old vacation.

A few days later, being gluttons for punishment, we took her to the mall on a quest for new sneakers. Um, let's just say BAD IDEA. The meltdown began as soon as we walked into the first store and announced that we were there to find her some shoes.

At this point I seriously started to consider homeschooling, because I'm pretty sure that's the only school where a 5th grader can go all day BAREFOOT. Grrrrr.

Fast forward to August 10th. Two days before the new school year starts. The girls and I returned to the outlet mall with friends to finish up our back-to-school shopping. I will admit that I was somewhat panicked regarding the whole Meg shoe situation. So when she announced that she wanted to go to the Vans store first, I bit my tongue, HARD.

In a total and complete act of mercy, God allowed Meg to find her dream shoes, in her dream color, and IN HER NON-DREAM-FOR-REAL-DEAL SIZE!!! When she tried them on and said those blessed words, "They fit," it was all I could do to not hug the crap out of every person in that store. I even  texted a photo to Henry of the Miracle Shoes:

A sight to behold, I know.

"Too good to be true," you say? 

Uh, yeah, PRETTY MUCH.

That's right. After wearing them to school a few days, she broke the news to me that they kinda slipped on the heel.

Thinking back, she really should have just switched out my contact lens cleaner with jalapeno juice. I'm pretty sure that would have been less painful.

Sooo after purchasing two different types of heel inserts, and being told that they felt weird and still slipped, I gave up. Forever and ever amen, because I was SO DONE with her uncooperative mini-me feet!!

Then, just like His mercies being new every morning, the next day she put the Vans on and headed out the door!?

Me:  Wait! What about your shoes?

Meg:  What about 'em?

Me:  I thought they slipped in the back and stuff?

Meg:  Well, I thought they were slipping, but I guess they weren't. They just felt like they were.

And that's the last thing I remember before waking up in a padded cell.