There was an old woman who lived with some shoes....

I have one more resolution to try and maintain (no, it's not cleaning out my closets--sorry, mom). Today I noticed that the toes of Henry's shoes were peeling down. I asked him about it, and he said, "Oh, that's probably because my toes press against the inside of them." I am awash in shame, shame, shame, because if you'll glance to the right, you'll see the results of my Nov-Dec shoe binge. Six pairs of shoes, one pair of boots, two pairs of slippers (Mitch, if you're reading this, just cut that number in half--I'm totally exaggerating). Meanwhile, my own child's poor toes are smashed into his only pair of shoes (okay, now I am exaggerating, he also has hiking boots, but they're probably too small now, too). Of course, we got right online and ordered him the coolest pair of shoes he could find (yes, they were on sale, Marci, but 8 bucks shipping). Then, I went upstairs and stared a good, long time at my pile of shame in the closet. Henry recently had a homework assignment where he had to count every shoe in the house. I found him in my closet with little tears brimming the top of his eyelids, because he kept losing track. At the time, I just figured he was a shitty little counter (I kid!). Anyway, no more shoes for me for the whole year. Or six months at the very least.