Shopping for shoes. Or reason #3,409 that my daughter is mad at me.
We went to a really fun party tonight.
I could be writing about how one should never scratch a nose during an auction because he will find himself the owner of a 2,000 pound Brahma bull.
But I have no pictures. So I will stick to today’s blogging scenario number 2.
How a fun mother/daughter shopping excursion turns not so fun.
Dear daughter’s piano recital is tomorrow. We went to the big city to buy her a dress and some shoes.
These were the shoes she wanted.
No. I am not kidding.
She clomped around in Target in these.
I crossed my arms and shook my head — no.
I suggested these.
She said they were gross.
So we left the store.
We did find shoes and a dress she liked a little bit later after the storm had passed. So she was all smiles when we got home, but I can’t help but think…
How high of a heel is too high for a fifth grader?
oh boy…I really mentally said “are you kidding?” as I was scrolling and saw your “No. I’m not kidding!” She was beautiful and did a wonderful job. Glad you won the shoe war!
Yes, Karen. We were laughing about it in Sunday School.