When the boys were little, their feet were square. Pudgy blocks on the ends of pudgy blocks for legs. It’s no wonder they couldn’t reliably stand. Getting shoes on their fat little feet cubes was an effective alternative to going to the gym.
At some point their feet started growing into a recognizable foot shape and they began going through shoes like I can get through a bag of those organic high-end Late July Doritos. Up until last year, we had a terrific record of maintaining shoe possession, except for the orange Croc incident of 2014. Likely because I subscribed to Jill’s strategy of one pair of shoes at a time. Which was reconfirmed last year, when, within the span of two weeks, Jake lost his PF Flyers while wearing soccer cleats, and Nate lost his new Vans while wearing soccer cleats.
Somehow during lockdown, we found Nate’s new Vans. Now they’re too small. Plus he’s outgrown his gray Crocs. These are a daily staple and so James picked-up a new, bigger pair at Roxanne’s Birkenstock shop, owned by Kevin. No one can tell me what happened to Roxanne.
James brought the new Crocs home, Jacob took one look and proclaimed Size 4 waaaay too big. Till he put them on.
Apparently we’ve officially outgrown big kid sizes and, I’m not sure I’m ready to put this in print… have entered the world of…
Man Crocs.
April 3, 2014