The Cinderella shoes

Last Monday evening after Erin came by to pick up Cami...remember that was the day of Brock's hospital stay...Elora stayed with us till bedtime. It had been a long day and we were all tired so we decided to go out to dinner and of course take Elora with us.


Only one problem. Since Elora came to us at 5am since they were rushing her Dad to the hospital at the time, she had no shoes. No big deal to us, but she was upset about it. She said she could not go out to eat with no shoes! I told her people go barefoot all the time to different places and she would be fine. Still she said no. I said Grandpa could carry her into the restaurant and no one would even be looking at her feet. Still, NO.


I had an idea. I told her the only shoes she had to wear, if she insisted on wearing some, were the little pair of Cinderella shoes in the dress up box. I did not remind her that they were plastic HEELS (she is only 5) and a few sizes too big for her. She shook her head. "No! I can't wear those!" She kept rolling her eyes, shaking her head, and looking at me like I was nuts for even suggesting them.


So then Grandpa Dennis interjected, "Well then, I guess we better take you home since you don't want to go out with us." I thought that was a tad harsh, after all, she DID want to go, but just not with bare feet. Still, he was right, what else could we do?


"No," Elora said, "I don't want to go home yet. I want to go out to dinner with you."
I felt sorry for her. She had been up way early too, and she was tired, and she was hungry, and she DID want to go with us. So then she takes a big deep breath and says reluctantly, "Okay, I'll wear those shoes."


So she puts the Cinderella shoes on and tries to hobble out to the car in them. It was a struggle but she made it.


So we get to the restaurant. Grandpa helps her out of the car and takes her hand. Cling, clang went those heels as she struggles again to walk now on the black asphalt of the parking lot. She looks back at me and says in a hushed determined tone, "This is the most embarrassing night of my life!"


I felt sorry for her but I laughed to myself at the same time. She is 5 years old! How many embarrassing nights could she have had so far?? Truthfully I was in hysterics. It's a good thing I was walking behind her so she couldn't see. I will love sharing this story with her when she is older. Perhaps it will come in handy when something hard comes along and she thinks she can't do it. I will remind her that she can.