Just Like Me

So, it's probably no secret that the boy's feet are almost as big as mine now. In fact, I gave him a pair of my sneakers for basketball until we could afford to buy him his own pair (which we did this week). Read on and you will see why this is significant...if I haven't already given away the ending...

So, after lunch yesterday, the boy was bouncing off the walls and both G and I, noting a break in the heavy rain, said to him "Go outside and RUN!" which, of course, he was happy to do. Fast forward a few minutes. I am putting lunch away and G is looking out the front window, watching K frolicking in our long, gravel driveway.

G says to me, "He really loves to play in the mud puddles."
"Well, he gets that from me."
"Really!"
So for quite a few minutes I regale G with stories of my childhood, ending with "Even in 9th grade, during track practice, when we would all go for street runs, we would jump in puddles and see who could get the others the wettest."
"So you don't mind that he's wearing YOUR shoes to do it?"
"No!" I thought he was pulling my leg.
"Yup. His shoes are right there."
"I don't believe you."
"Look for yourself." So I did. And there sat G on the couch laughing hysterically, as I leaned out the front door, having seen my ONLY good pair of shoes missing from the pile by the door, and threaten the boy, "Those had better not be my GOOD shoes you are getting sopping wet in those mud puddles!!"....and the rather contrite boy ran in from the driveway..."Sorry, Mommy. Are you mad at me?"