The new shoes

Have any of you ever had a faint, terrible smell in your home? I've walked around for days, occasionally catching a wiff, trying to follow my nose to the source, but either becoming distracted first, or just not able to find the culprit. That once happened in our car, and we finally found a long-time missing sippie cup that had originally been filled with chocolate milk. I assure you it was NOT chocolate milk anymore. This time, however, a quick survey of the cupboard yeilded no missing cups. All accounted for. That couldn't be the source.

Another time, I realized my husband's (I wouldn't admit it if it was mine) sparring gear needed some bleach wipes. EEEEWWWWWW!

This week, however, the culprit was elusive. Or age is weakening my senses. Nah, that can't be it!

In other news, after this, Grace did make the transition from the worn shoes, to the new ones. There were nights she wore one pair, and held the other as she drifted off to sleep, but slowly the new ones finally broke in enough that she began wearing them and I've put the worn ones into the hope chest for safe keeping.


The life of a 4 year old is soap opera material. Oh, the drama! First of all, the bright shiny sequins have not held up so well. How can they? With each bump on the bicycle pedal or rub on the sidewalk more glitter fell off. They weren't exactly made to be everyday material. Add the rain (and mud) and well, the new shoes don't look so new. As a matter of fact, they look as worn as the old ones. Each glitter scuff has manifested some tears from Grace. Each drop of mud a crisis. But for me, if I let her wear those silly things with her church clothes that are PURPLE, then I don't care if they look worn, right? Right. So on they marched.

The last 3 days she's been wearing her new shoes nonstop, bath time being the only time her little feet were out them. This morning, as we were getting ready for church, that smell was still lingering around. Again, I tried to find the culprit. No luck. Back to fixing the little ones' hair. As I was pulling Grace's hair back, the smell got so bad I said aloud, "Good grief, what IS that?" Grace piped up. "It's my feet, mom." Like she had known it for days. All matter of fact.

My eyes got big. Oh, no. I pulled the shoes from her little feet. WWWWOOOOOLLLLFFFFFF!!!!!!! **gag**. She laughed. She was proud. Faith, Hope, Charity, AND Blessing all started squealing and scrunching their noses and waving their hands in front of their faces. And don't forget the laughing. I really should have taken a picture of Grace's face. She's a girl. Usually a very girly girl. Prissy. Sassy. And even proper. But she was VERY proud of that stink! She chased the other girls around the living room, sticking her feet in their faces, and laughing with all the gusto of a typical boy.

I put the shoes away (could not bring myself to throw them away...yet), and she cried. I have to draw the line somewhere. You can't walk around the world in red shoes that make you smell like, well, you'd just have to smell it. I can't believe such a pretty little girl can smell SO rotten!!!!!!