Anastasia is making her first communion this Saturday. I thought we would take a quick, little trip to Target and pick up a pair of fancy, white shoes. It sounded so simple in my mind. I should have scheduled a root canal instead; it would have been more fun.
Catherine was strapped into the cart, which always throws her into a tizzy. God forbid she actually be contained for a millisecond. I think even she got a headache from her whining.
Look at those eyes. Her teenage years are going to be so fun.
I started to apologize to all the Target employees and customers' eardrums, but everyone cleared out too fast.
Isabella was giddy with the array of high heels glittering in her midst. She tried on every pair of high heels that she could stick her foot in. She wasn't concerned if the stilettos were even close to fitting or if they were comfortable, just that they were fancy.
Up to this point though, I was still semi-sane. While I was distracted by the extreme decibels of Catherine's howling, Anastasia had been busy. She was busy rejecting every single pair of shoes she saw without even trying one on. Her reasons were legitimate; none of them had a butterfly on the heal of the shoe.
My head was starting to pound. I thought about bribery, but then I remembered something important. I AM the MOTHER.
"You'd better pick something because this is the only place we're going to. Otherwise, you can wear your flip-flops with your communion dress." I snorted.
Suddenly, Anastasia began to see some shoes she liked.
Don't even get me started on sock shopping. Who knew that there were so many different kinds of socks with ruffles!
At least one of them is not interested in fashion yet!