Bigfoot

Life’s full of little surprises and a couple of days ago Niels decided to spring one on me just as I was trying to shoo the kids into the lift to catch the school bus. Seeing his gym bag ready to go must have jolted his still sleepy brain because out of the blue he announced: “My gym shoes don’t fit and if I have to wear bare feet I’m not allowed to do gym!”
The way his voice got faster and rose in pitch was some indication of the panic sweeping over him: for Niels to have to sit out his gym class would be worse than going the whole day without food. He LOVES gym, and anything involving physical activity. It’s truly hard to believe he came from the womb of a woman who detests sports with an equal passion. For me, even pelvic floor exercises constitute a work out. I hate to get all hot and sweaty – the only sports I’ve ever had classes for were swimming and aqua aerobics, because if you sweat in the water you can’t tell.
So here we were, with 30 seconds before the bus is due to arrive and Niels is telling me that the gym shoes I bought him just FOUR WEEKS AGO apparently no longer fit and we have a major crisis on our hands. How can he grow a whole shoe size in one month?
He clearly doesn’t understand the vital role that coffee plays in Mummy’s life or he wouldn’t have timed this before my first cup. If he’d told me yesterday I could have gotten new shoes but no, it had to be at 7:58 and is that the bus I hear driving up??? Had the day finally arrived when hubby would get home, ask where Niels was and I’d have to admit I’d thrown him down the rubbish shute?
I grabbed one of Niels feet and shoved it into a gym shoe without a sock on.
“Does that fit better now?”
“Yeah…”
“Right. Problem solved. Get on the bus.”

Crisis averted. Time for that coffee.