"You're sure that's what you want?" I asked before pulling out my credit card.
My then six-year-old assured me that she loved the shoes and would probably get married in them.
The next morning, my daughter put on her new shoes and ran around our yard for three minutes. When she returned, she tossed the shoes on the kitchen counter.
"I've decided I don't like these shoes," she told me. "I want you to take them back."
My explanation of why that was not an option was not well received.
"So what if there's mud all over them?" she cried. "Someone will wear them!"
She never did fully accept the idea that that person was her.
Shortly after this episode, the shoes disappeared from the shoe racks in the garage. Countless hours of searching failed to turn up the despised foot coverings.
"Oh well!" my daughter said when I announced that I had given up looking for them.
You can imagine my daughter's excitement when she came home from school the next day to find a pair of the exact same sneakers sitting on her bed.
"Surprise!" I shouted. "I bought you another pair!"
My daughter's joy was palpable.
Today, my daughter has two reasons to rejoice. My clothes dryer is about ready to give up the ghost. When I moved the appliance away from the wall to perform its last rites, the missing shoes came into view.
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