19 Jan shoes, drugs, and existentialism
Bronwynn has been waiting a long time to wear these shoes. A gift from her great aunt a few months ago, they were about a size too big. She would pick them up and carry them around and pet them and every few days we’d try them on to see if they fit.
You can understand the anticipation, I’m sure. They’re pink. They have sparkles. They’re princess shoes you can RUN in. Does it get any cooler than that??!
Finally, the day came. They fit well enough that she would not trip over and fall on her face. So she wore them to preschool.
Today, in the car, we talked about the shoes:
B: I used to be little and my shoes were too big and I falled down.
Me: Right, but now you’re wearing your shoes. Why is that?
B: I’m not little anymore. I’m not a little girl. I’m high.
Me: You’re what?!
B: I’m high. I got high and now my shoes fit and I won’t fall over.
Me: Do you mean you got bigger?
B: Yeah. I’m a big girl now. I got high.
Me: Thanks for telling me, sweetie. I want you to know you can ALWAYS tell Mommy if you get high.