Shoe-wee

Dear Cheap Shoes From W@lmart Precious Pink Shoes,
Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Finally a pair of shoes that my little ladies
would keep on. Seriously, if I had a nickle for every time I had to re-shoe a child

I'd have a lot of nickles.

For some reason, they chose you to be the first pair of shoes they would actually wear. Maybe it was because you were pink and cute. Maybe you were comfy. Maybe you were too tight.

Whether it was due to keen fashion sense, or a lack of circulation, you stayed on.

And my mind was saved.

Until last week.

They just plumb wore you out, didn't they? Two little running babies can do that to a mama pair(s) of shoes.

You had blue chalk on the sides, ripped insoles, and were about two walks down the driveway away from holes in the bottom.

Most moms would save such precious memories. Store them away to look at again. Sigh and say

ah, remember when they were so little? What happened to my babies?

But alas, I cannot.

Because dear cheap shoes from W@lmart, you smell.

To high heaven.

Son of a gun, it's bad.

Like jr-high-boys-locker-room bad.

So despite your valued service, I am sending you to shoe heaven.

Which is code for the dump.

Forgive me and thank you.

Sincerely,
Anna Grace and Emily's mama