Soos OFF.

Nellie’s standby daycare shoes are a pair of black and white ones we got at Wal-Mart. The other morning while leaving for school we managed to lose one of them somewhere. I still have no idea where the frigging thing went. It was there, and then it wasn’t. We ended up having to pair her black-and-orange Halloween outfit with a pair of brown shoes with pink and purple flowers on them. Fashionable. But whatever, she’s not Suri Cruise. She could wear a purple shirt, orange pants, and mismatched shoes and she’d still be adorable and amazing. TAKE THAT FASHION BABIES.

Anyway. The next day we still couldn’t find the black and white shoes, so I coordinated her an outfit that would look a little less clashy with her brown flowery shoes. We put them on, got her strapped in the car and off we went on our morning routine. We dropped daddy off at work and headed to daycare. On the drive there, I heard the telltale sound of Velcro being pulled apart.

Rrrrrrrrrrip. Thump.

Off come the shoes.

When I got out of the car to get Nellie out of her seat, it was rainy. My pants are too long, so I kept stepping on the hems and getting them wet. I opened the door to find my child sitting in her seat, grinning at me.

Shoeless. Of course she was. “You silly girl!” I declared. “You took your shoes off!”

”SOOS. OFF! SOOS OFF MAMA,” she agreed. I quickly found one shoe, and then started looking for the other. I couldn’t find it on one side, so I plodded to the other side of the car, stepping all over my pants and getting drizzled on. I dug around the seat, looked on the floor, jammed my hand under the carseat and still came up empty.
”Mama. Mama! Up. Up. Mama.”
”Yes, Nellie, I know you want up but I have to find your shoes first. You took them off and mama can’t find one.”
”Off. Soos OFF, MAMA.”

I went around to the back and opened the hatch to see if somehow she’d managed to fling the shoe into the back. No dice. I saw the lone black and white shoe, sitting forlornly without its mate.

“MaMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.” Nellie started to whine.

I was still getting drizzled on and the cuffs of my pants were becoming increasingly soaked, so I started getting flustered and frustrated. I repeated my search all around the car; left side, right side, back. Diaper bag, purse, under Nellie’s carseat. The damn shoe was nowhere to be found. By this time Nellie was in full-on Whine Mode and I was about to lose my mind. I pulled out my phone and called my husband, deducing that the shoe had to have fallen out when he opened the door to kiss her. He checked the parking lot for me and came up empty.


There was a Wal-Mart nearby, so I climbed back in the car and drove over there to pick up a new pair of shoes. I toted Nellie through Wal-Mart until we found a decent-looking and non-gaudy pair of shoes (which, at Wal-Mart, is no easy feat. TRUST ME.). As soon as Nellie saw the black and pink shoes, she started wiggling excitedly on my hip.


“Yes, Nellie, we’ll put these shoes on when you get into the car.”

A few minutes later we were back to the car, strapping Nellie into the carseat.


I hastily ripped off the labels and tags and slipped them onto Nellie’s feet.
”Pretty! Pretty shoes!” I said to her. “Do you like your new shoes?”
”YAH! YAH MAMA!” Nellie said happily.

It was then that I started to wonder if “losing” the black and white shoes and the brown shoes all in the course of two days wasn’t really an accident, but a well thought-out ploy by my daughter to get me to buy her a brand new pair of sparkly pink and black shoes. Hmm.

I climbed back into the car, eyeing the clock and sighing that we were already almost 45 minutes behind our normal routine. I pulled out of the Wal-Mart parking lot and onto the road.

”Soos, Mama. Soos.” Nellie said.
”Shoes, baby,” I agreed. I turned up the radio a little bit to sing along to the music playing from it, but not before I heard from the backseat…..

Rrrrrrrrrrrrip. Thump.

“Soos off, Mama.”