About two weeks ago, as part of the process of getting ready for school, I had my son put on his sneakers to see if they still fit, or if he would need new ones. They were fine; he could get them on easily and had plenty of room at the end of the toes. With three weeks to the start of school, I thought we were fine.
Chaos ensued, as it so often does in my world, and the school-supplies shopping trip didn’t happen until this morning. While we were wandering around acquiring such things as dry-erase markers and notebook paper, J. mentioned in passing that he also needed new gym shoes, as his old ones were almost too small. I raised an eyebrow, but told him that the store we were in was not where I was going to get his gym shoes, and that I wanted to see how the old ones fit myself. They might indeed be too small, but they also might just be suffering from “not-newness”.
We got home with our loot, and I bade him put on his current shoes and stand in front of me. Guess what? Over the course of two weeks, he really has nearly outgrown those shoes.
So now I get to find him new gym shoes at the last minute. I tried to plan ahead for once. I really did. But my kidling outfoxed me, in particularly kid-like fashion. He grew.
I know the feeling. Ray grew an inch over the summer and is now 3/4 of an inch taller than me. I’ve had to buy him size 11 shoes and he’s 12 1/2.