Flip flops. Girly shoes. They've always been off limits. But still I'd always look, or glance over the selection quickly, just for a second. Then I just walk on because I know better. I know that the strategic layers of supportive tennis shoe, over brace, over sock, is what allows Oia to safely get from point A to point B. Flip flops are an injury waiting to happen, if they even stay on. But the itch to try them, even if it's not the most practical idea, gnawed at me this particular day. Oia's mobility and functional level are better now than ever and maybe, just maybe, we could swing something a little more daring. But, I happen to be the epitome of practical and my idea of purchasing something like this was not. I stood there amoung a wall plastered with such silly shoes and silently contemplated the pink pair I just pulled from it, and unsure of what to do.
I looked down at my blondie. "Hey Oia, do you like these shoes?" I hoped she'd just answer no. An answer of no would be enough to justify their return to the rack and we'd mosey along without them. Instead, she said yeah and excitedly took them from me. And she wasn't giving them back. She seemed a bit tickled with the idea. Great. Deal sealed. They were coming home with us and we didn't even try them on. "I'll save the reciept" I thought.
Once we returned home and in the comforts of our own living room, we helped her slip into her new shoes. Her first ever pair of flip flops. Her pale, dainty feet and ankles were still covered with slight impressions of sock and brace, but her orange painted toenails that we rarely see poked through so sweetly. I imagine how naked she must of felt in them but how good at the same time. Perhaps they even felt a little weird? She wore them for a short time around the house, stepping softly and carefully. Smiling and looking downward. Then she sat to play with them, slipping them on and off a time or two because that alone was fun to her. Then finally she tossed them aside before returning to the comforts of her worn-in tennis shoes.
It's now days later and those little flip flops remain in the same place, beside Rob's chair in the living room. Maybe she'll choose to wear them again ~ to the pool, around the house, or on our deck during water play ~ but if not, it's okay. Either way, happiness is simply catching a glimpse of them in the corner of our living room where they wait to be worn again, instead of hanging on the rack at the store where they were once off limits.