My youngest keeps telling me he needs new shoes. I keep telling him to wait until September. He gripes about the gravel.
Today I tossed him an old cereal box. “Hey, look what I found,” I told him. “Now you don’t need new shoes until November.”
He didn’t get it.
I tried to explain the finer points of sole replacement.
He’s still mystified.
Clearly I’ve been a much too indulgent mother. The hole’s not even that big: