These "Shoe" Things...

These things.

They are flat, with a spongy bottom,  round at the top, straight at the sides, and round again at the bottom.  They have black and white stripes on them, with a strap at the top, in the middle of each shoe to slip my Big Toe and that next toe around it.

The Daddy calls them "shoes".   Big Brother calls them "flip flops".

I hated them when The Parents first bought them for me.

"Your first official walking pair!" The Momma announced happily.

I wasn't happy.

These things were heavy.

Made me wobble when The Momma planted me on the flat place I like to walk on.  They went into each other and I tipped and fell over.  Hit my head.

They trapped my feet and kept them from going anywhere.  There's a strap on each of these things that wraps around the back of my feet to keep them in.  Stops me from pulling them off and throwing them at The Momma's head.

Bummer.




Now we're on this big road trip and The Momma puts these "shoes" on me each time we stop to take a break.

So painful.

But I don't like being in my car seat too long.  That's very painful.

And these "shoes"...

They are my way out of the car.  The Momma won't let me walk on the flat places without them.   So if I don't fight her when she puts them on me, I can get out of the car.

Yeah!



The Momma is pulling me from the big car.  Yes! Yes! Yes!

She carries me to the flat place in the bright sunshine, my "shoe" things knocking against her legs.  I wiggle my legs hard.  I want down.  To put my feet and these things on that flat place.

Love the flat places.  These "shoe" things grip my feet like gloves as I walk on the flat places.  My toes settle into the pressed-in spots that my toes have been making since The Momma put them on me at the start of this trip.

She puts me down and my legs move, and my feet move and the "shoe" things move with my feet.

Not so heavy anymore as I step from side to side, making wide arcs with them.   Their spongy bottom cushions my feet from the hard blows of my stomping.

They keep me steady as I learn to use these feet.

These feet.  That's another story.


But not so bad.  These "shoes".

This piece is inspired by a prompt from The Red Dress Club that asked you to write about a character and his/her shoes.  The above-mentioned character is my darling 16 month old son.   If he could write, this is what he would share.  He's getting used to those oval things with the back straps thanks to our recent road trip to California. 


Concrit welcomed.