All the power to my youngest daughter, because without her I don't think I'd have much of a blog
Sid had been nagging - an exceptional ability she shares with her siblings - for new running shoes. I was hesitant as she had only her "old" pair, for four months. Rob finally relented one weekend and took her shopping - for the record I categorically refuse to shop with my children - and she came home with a brand spanking new pair of white runners. That was mistake #1.
Three days later, despite our insistence not too, she wore the new shoes up to the very muddy barn. Mistake #2. It is pretty obvious what happened next, white shoes no more. When we get home I stopped her as she was just about to wash them in my kitchen sink. Surprisingly, she didn't fathom my extreme revulsion at this act.
The next day, it was pouring with rain, and as we sat at the gas (petrol) station. I glanced over, only to see Sid happily holding a shoe out of her open window. Consequently, her arm, her shoe and the inside of my van were all getting drenched. I uttered the question I always seem to be asking of my children, "What the hell are you doing ?" She looked at me, rolled her eyes and replied in a very condescending tone, "What does it look like I'm doing ? I'm cleaning my shoe."
"Actually.." I replied, "...you aren't cleaning anything, all you are doing is getting everything soaked. Why not use the wet wipes I keep in the van?" A little light bulb clicks on and by the time we reach school, her shoes are again clean and the floor is covered in grotty wet wipes.
I have to wonder if she isn't the product of a shallow gene pool. I remember during one of my pregnancies I had to go for an ultrasound and a bigoted technician expressed relief that my husband was Canadian and not British "Because of all the inbreeding that goes on in England". Yes really! I tore a strip off her then, but now I've got to wonder, at least where my children are concerned, if she wasn't on to something.
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