We're late for everything EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Why? I’ll tell you why. It’s the FREAKIN' SHOES!
First it’s the 400 repeated requests to “put your shoes on” that my kids blithely ignore. Do they not realize that when my mouth moves and noises come out of it, it means I’M TALKING??? I’ve seriously considered having their hearing tested. The clock ticks as I repeat “Putonyourshoes, putonyourshoes, putonyourshoes, putonyourshoes” in an endless loop.
When I finally get their attention and they go to put on their shoes (HALLELUIAH!), they can never find them. And thus begins the 15 minute “Hunt for the Shoes.” A daily ritual in my house.
We look in the closet. The foyer. Their bedrooms. The back porch. The backyard. The bathroom. OH! Found one in the sink!
Then the hunt resumes for shoe #2. We look in the living room, the hallway, the stairwell, the front porch, the kitchen. AH! Found it. In a colander in the kitchen cabinet, naturally.
Then begins the slowest shoe-putting-on of all time. How kids can move slower than a slug on Valium (but only when you have to be somewhere) is beyond me. It takes a solid 4 minutes for each shoe to make it onto my kids’ feet.
But there's more. Next comes the drama about the shoe not fitting. Or not matching. Or having an invisible, microscopic rock in it that HURTTTTTTSSSSSSSS!!!! (Insert tantrum.) And the “Hunt for the Shoes” must resume for a more suitable pair. Closet. Foyer. Bedrooms. Back porch. Backyard. Bathroom. Living room. Hallway. Stairwell. Front porch. Kitchen …
It’s like a never-ending cycle of shoe hell. Dante’s shoe-ferno. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever escape.