When I was 5 I had, like every other girl, a pair of patent leather shoes. You know the kind, with the big bow on the front. We’ll I’d wear them every day to preschool and every day the teacher would ask me if I’d like to put my sneakers on to go out for recess. And every day I was baffled that she couldn’t see that pink stride rites by no means match white tights and a Polly Flinder dress. So every day I refused and click clacked my way out to the playground in my patent leather shoes. Now this was all fine and good except for the dust and the rocks that plagued that playground. So every day on our way back inside the classroom I would bend down, take off my shoe and…lick it. Yes. That’s right. I said it.
Now of course my mom was mortified when she found out. But I couldn’t stop. Once I realized how shiny my patent leather shoes could be with a little spit there was no stopping me… and of course there is no reasoning with a five year old.
So there you have it. My obsession with pretty things started young and really hasn’t let up…although I can assure I do not lick my patent leather shoes any more, but I have been known to use a baby wipe here and there.
xoxo|A
No comments:
Post a Comment