5-Year-Old's Eyes Can Make a Mom Forget Strait-Laced Shoe Budget

Within the year, in a darkened closet underneath some worn out sweat pants and surrounded by balls of dust peeking out all aglow will be the had-to-have, glow-in-the-dark high top tennis shoes.
Mike would argue until tears came out of his all-so-endearing and irresistible 5-year-old eyes that this is not possible , but I'd swear on a pile of discarded Nikes, Reeboks, and Kangaroos that it is.
However, even this oath did not bar me from footing the bill for his new footings.
We were on a school preparedness outing, which included purchasing school supplies, getting haircuts, and buying shoes.
As you can imagine, at this point in our travels the checkbook balance was in decline and the credit card balance was on the rise.
As we drove along to the shoe shop, I began my "This is what is going to happen next" lecture.
"Not everyone will be getting shoes today. Mike and Pete, we just got those rocket ship high tops for you and they are still in good shape. You don' t need anything new right now but John does. So you'll be good in the store, OK?"
This idea seemed agreeable to the boys for the rest of the ride in the car, but I guess that to them two minutes is long enough to be agreeable.
Soon we arrived at the store where you take your shoes off and stand on the metal measuring contraption, It communicated with Mom's purse saying, "This foot has expanded like the Incredible Hulk, and it can ' t be stuffed into the outrageously overpriced dress shoes you bought for the one dress up occasion last spring. You'll have to buy a new pair of overpriced dress shoes to wear once and then grow out of."
This is when Mike asked, "Can I get some new shoes too?" When I reminded him about our conversation in the car he said, "That was before I saw my most favorite shoes ever."
Any recollection of our non-purchase agreement dimmed as the glow in Mike's eyes brightened over the leopard design, glow-in-the- dark high-top sneakers.
Vacillation began. I crept away from an absolute "no" to "I doubt they have your size."
"Let's check," Mike pleaded, leading me over to the stack of boxes.
In a few moments he was laced to above his ankle bones in leopard canvas. My bargaining chips were about to be cashed in at the checkout counter.
I began a discussion with myself:
I don't really want to spend any more money today.
If we get the shoes maybe Mike will let up on asking if he can get a parrot.
But if I get the shoes he'll think he can have anything if he is relentless.
Maybe I should tell him he has to wait until they are on sale but there's only one pair left in his size. If we wait, they'll be gone and he'll be heartbroken and he is such a good guy. And he just got over the disappointment when I told him he couldn't get a monkey even though he said it wouldn't be any trouble because he'd always carry it on his shoulder. "Mom, are you in a trance or what?" Maureen asks.
She is waiting her turn to work me over about buying a pair of shoes that remind me of a guy who'd clean his fingernails with a switch blade and cracks safes for a living.
"I guess we'll get the shoes," I tell Mike.
"Thank you Mommy," Mike answered. "I 'll pick up toys in the basement to earn the dollars to pay for them."
"Good idea," I agreed, wondering how to deduct his earnings from my Visa bill.
Buying the shoes turned out to be the right decision. The shoes have become our family 's entertainment.
Mike takes anyone who will go into the dark bathroom and demonstrates how the shoes glow in the dark. Maureen and Machaela, using one shoe each, did a bedtime dance performance
in the dark for the little guys.
Pete can't wait to go to the Halloween Haunted houses this year.
He says the ghosts will be scared when they see Mike's glowing shoes. And a scared ghost has to be worth at least the price of the shoe box.
September 21, 1988