Since joining the ranks of fatherhood, there has been a single consistent and perplexing occurrence; there’s always something weird in my shoes. It is the most bewildering thing. Children run through toys like gallons of milk, repeatedly ask the names of neighbors, but they will always find it amusing to put stuff in shoes. How is it that they keep the habit going for years and years? Perhaps some reasons are beyond knowing.
Here’s the weirdest stuff I’ve found in my shoes:
A single grain of uncooked rice. I was all “princess and the pea” trying to figure this out.
Red Son version Superman.
A more recent find. The toddler asked for the flag to be put in Superman’s hand, I laughed, snapped a photo, and he found it necessary to present it to me as a gift when I wasn’t looking. That flag is pointy. Still funny though. Working on getting him to say “seize the means of production” then flipping over tables. Day care hates me.
Chalk. Chalk is worst.
Children’s socks after being worn in the sandbox.
A golf ball. But I saw this one happen and the five year old said “hole in one” as it happened. He got ice cream.
My wallet. Empty, but awkwardly sized.
My wife’s flip-flops for reasons unknown.
A note reading, “all that exists is fleeting.” Written in crayon with backward E’s. It was cute.
Breakfast. Half chewed bacon.
Pacifiers all the time. Some homes have to check for spiders before putting on shoes, we check for pacifiers.
A cat collar and we don’t have a cat. Lots of questions there.
The real lesson should be to store shoes where children cannot reach them. Or maybe not laugh when this stuff happens.