Shoeless Joe Jack

On Wednesday night, we were doing our usual after dinner scramble to get to AWANA on time. I went through the mental check list, barking orders and reminders to the children, "Brush your hair...get your AWANA vest...where's your book...Jack you need your shoes and socks on still...Grace your clogs aren't going to work, the teachers want you to wear something you can run in...ya-da, ya-da, ya-da."

We swerved into the church driveway five minutes late, (as we do every Wednesday), but I was feeling like a slightly late success after a full day. I opened the van door for the kids to hop out and Jack realizes, in that moment, that he has "forgotten his shoes". One of the coldest nights of the winter and my son "forgets" to put his shoes on before he leaves the house. Standing in just his socks he waits with a visible cringe for the other shoe to drop (forgive me).

After a few choice words to my son that probably walked the line in a church driveway, my mind raced through the options. Unfortunately, this was the second time that Jack had forgotten his shoes at church so I was going through the What-Is-Wrong-With-This-Kid's-Mother mental beating while clenching my teeth in determination to teach my son a lesson. My eyes scanned the car floor in hopes of finding a stray pair of shoes. Any pair would do.

And then I spotted them.
Cue in the angelic music from above and the spotlight.

For five seconds, I debated the years and years of therapy my son might have before him if I followed through on the shoes. But I knew I had the opportunity to provide my son with a memorable lesson in attentiveness. I decided to take the risk...

"Jack, I'm not going to let you go shoeless in the dead of winter. I don't know how you forget to put on your shoes, but you're going to have to wear shoes." Reaching under the seat for the spotted extra pair, I whipped out Grace's pink plaid flats with the pink strappy buckle. Reluctantly, sliding his tube socked foot into the shoe, to my delight, they were a perfect fit. The boy knew he could say nothing.

More than amused, I watched him run into a class full of boys that night wearing his baseball shirt, sporting a swollen blue nose from a fall last week, green military camo pants, and of course, the pastel pink plaid flats. I'm quite sure I won't need to remind him to put his shoes on again for a long while.