Did you know there was a full moon — more specifically, a blue moon — on Friday?
Have you ever taught kids, dealt with kids, looked at kids, or heard kids during a full or blue moon? That myth that kids are iNsAnE during a full moon? Com-plete-ly true.
When I was teaching, even at the 9th grade level, as teachers we ALWAYS knew when there was going to be a full moon. Those lunar changes just turn kids completely crazy — into a modern day embodiment of the word “lunatic.” Kids show us exactly why that word developed in the English language . . . and MY kidlets don’t shy away from wholeheartedly embracing the word.
(sigh)
Friday I decided to knock several errands of my to-do list; the Little Lady had a doctor’s visit with our new pediatrician and then . . . it was time for shoe shopping.
I’ve been fortunate to have never really worried about finding shoes for the Kidlets. I’ve not needed to hunt down Zappos coupon codes or try to select tennis shoes based on miniature thumbnail pictures. I’ve not needed to visit a Stride Right or a Payless, all the while pulling little arms away from glittery high heels.
No, I’ve been spoiled, letting Grandmothers supply the shoes for the Kidlets. All I had to do was tell them what size I *thought* my children were in at any given time.
Well. All of that changed Friday. I took the Kidlets — all three of them — to Target to “quickly grab” a cheap pair of shoes for school.
My first mistake was taking all three Kidlets — on the day of a BLUE MOON!
They took turns whining. The whining turned into screaming. Mr. Boy decided to see how many times he could get away with saying the word “Poop” in public . . .which in turn prompted an emergency visit to the public restrooms.
(shudder)
There was nothing, absolutely nothing, pleasant about shoe shopping. The Little Lady argued and pleaded for the tackiest shoes she could find . . . Mr. Boy kept wanting to see if the Spider Man shoes would make him fly and jump “higher ‘n higher ‘n higher than EVER.”
In the end, as Baby Barney Kneeknuckles screamed and fought against the shopping cart restraints, trying to climb out and make his escape, I decided enough was enough.
I grabbed a pair of shoes for each and threw them in the cart.
I. Was. Done.
(and, yes, I found a few shreds of sanity in my first Pumpkin Spice Latte of the season)
It was over. The shoes were purchased and I was off the hook for awhile till the next growth spurt.
Till later, at home, the Husband pointed out something.
Yeah. Just wrong. Wrong. Wrong. The WRONG size.
Seriously? Really, Blue Moon?
I give up.
disclosure: fyi, this post about my “all-too real experience” shoe shopping was sponsored. The story, any opinions, and any stress headaches shared herein are my own.
