The fact is, sometimes it's hard to walk in a single woman's shoes.

That's why we need really special ones now and then, to make the walk a little more fun.
(Jenny Bicks)

I hate to shop.

Actually, I like to shop. I'll spend the day in a yarn shop, happily selecting an abundance of future projects. And I'll spend hours at the bookstore, happily wandering from aisle to aisle. I love office supply stores, and the card shops. I will gladly go out and look for things for my house. So I guess that what I meant to say is that I hate to shop for clothes.

Although, I have no problem shopping for clothes for my girls. And I even enjoy picking out things for my son, as long as he isn't with me. So I guess what I really meant to say is that I hate to shop for clothes for myself.

About a month ago, I finally had to admit that my sneakers needed to be replaced. The soles are worn down so badly that I'm literally walking on the sides of my feet. The toes tend to leak in the rain. And they look horrible. I ignored it as long as I could, but it's time to take action when strangers on the street start to mention the need for new shoes.

So I went over to Walmart to pick up a pair of plain old-fashioned sneakers (aka tennis shoes). I didn't want any of the fancy cross-trainers, or walkers, or whatever. I just wanted a plain pair of ten dollar sneakers. Something I could grab in my size and go home with. To my dismay, Walmart didn't have plain sneakers. So I went over to Target. And then to KMart. Nobody had plain ordinary sneakers. So I gave up and went home, and continued to wear my worn out shoes.

About a week later, my kids talked me into trying again. This time they went with me. But to my surprise, Walmart, Target and Kmart still did not have the plain sneakers that I prefer. I did give in and try one of the fancier pairs, but by then my kids had figured out that I wasn't going to be any fun to shop with. (I wasn't buying them anything until I found something for me.) So we went home.

When my oldest came home, she agreed to go shoe shopping with me. (She took me clothes shopping first, and yet was still willing to look for shoes. It had been even longer than we thought since she had been home.) I have to say, shopping with her brought back a lot of memories. I heard the echo of trips to the store with her as a toddler:

"Stop fussing and try this on. You can't have those, they don't come in your size. I know you like them, but they won't fit you. No, put those down. We can't afford those, they cost too much. Just try these on. How do you know they won't fit if you haven't tried them on yet. Sigh. Can't you stop whining and try to cooperate, just for a little while? How about we go out for a treat if you behave and try these on nicely? Stop touching those; we're looking for sneakers. You don't need high heels. You don't even wear high heels. No, you can't have a new pocketbook. We're here to get sneakers. Please, just try this pair on now. I promise this is the last pair, and then we'll go out for ice cream, Mommy."

Needless to say, we didn't get sneakers that day. And I didn't get sneakers when my son went out with me the next week. Or when my youngest tried to get me out again last week.

I only bring all this up, so you can understand how utterly amazing it is when I say: I bought two pairs of sneakers today. Two! One plain white pair, and one pretty black pair (for dressing up in). The pride is probably a little over-the-top. But my family understands.