Check out Yago’s shoes. Cute, don’t you think?
I am embarrassed to report how many shoes we have lost since Yago started walking. He appears to have inherited my allergy to constricting footwear, which leads to situations like this.
We were headed home in the stroller yesterday, loaded down with groceries. He had cooperated magnificently in the store, but I had pushed my luck by waffling in the chocolate aisle. We were knocking on boredom and I only had a few minutes to get him away from valuables before trouble set in.
We were doing some serious stroller-cross through the construction zone and making a beeline for the highway crossing when said trouble arrived. Simultaneous shoe removal. With the kind of force that only a bored toddler can summon, he yanked off both shoes, one in each hand, and flung them to his sides. In the middle of the highway. While I was rushing through a flashing pedestrian light.
Panic set in. What to do?
- Option one: Forget the shoes and rush my baby out of on-coming traffic to the relative safety of the sidewalk? Hell no, I chose ….
- Option two: Abandon the child in front of notoriously crazy Spanish drivers, retrieve the strewn shoes, and pretend I didn’t notice the horn blowing and arm waving.
THOSE ARE LEOPARD PRINT SHOES! The last pair that I have two of. Plus, my friend Macarena gave us those shoes.
Wouldn’t you like to have a friend named Macarena? Every time I talk to her I get the urge to wiggle my butt with a quarter turn jump.
- Spanish trivia: The two old farts with the bad hair and suits wrote the song “Macarena” and are thus responsible for the millions of wedding videos of fat, drunk women gyrating. They are from Seville.
I see guys that look just like that, same suits and hair, dancing just like that, every time I go to a wedding here. Oh my.