I went on an adventure yesterday to find two of my three girls dress shoes to wear to an upcoming banquet.
I’m not in the habit of buying the girls dress shoes because for the most part, they wear Crocs, running shoes or flippers and the one day of the year they do need a pair of dress shoes, we almost always have a pair of hand-me-downs in the closet they slide over their thickest socks and we head to the Queen’s Ball.
This year, at 8 and 11, I thought I would buy them each a pair after sending the miniature guy inside the hand-me-down trunk to the very back of the closet while we waited for fifteen minutes for him to hobble back with a “Nope, we just have lizard sizes left.”
Let’s not over think this. I was going to buy them the first pair of black, dressy (ish) shoes I found in the first store I went to provided they were reasonably priced. Those were my only criteria; cheap, black, dressy (ish).
I found a pair for Ellie (age 8) that had a small, chunky heel for $14.99—sold.
The pair I found for Hanna (age 11) resembled a flat, ballet slipper that had been bent in half with a vice but I talked myself into them acknowledging maybe my kid had really strong feet and could possibly straighten them out if she slept in them for the next few nights and the price was right. $19.99—sold.
There was some confusion when the kids looked at their shoes and a damn-near kerfuffle as they opened their boxes.
“Why did Ellie get ‘high heels’ and I got bent ones?”
“Oh Mom, I love these. I don’t care if they fit, they have high heels!”
Friend in the car, “My Mom says she won’t buy me high heels until I’m 16.”
Huh.
I guess I didn’t consider the weight the size of the heel carried because I didn’t care.
They aren’t tall enough to hurt her foot or make her walk awkwardly. They’re not a pointy heel that could stab someone or pick a lock. They’re cheap, dressy and black.
She’ll wear them once, we’ll hand them to the miniature man and into the trunk they’ll go.
Would you let your 8 year old wear these? I am.
