We bought our son a new pair of sneakers over the weekend. He’s moved up a size, and this means we no longer shop on the baby/toddler wall of our local Stride-Rite. We’ve moved up to the big-boy wall.
I’m inordinately proud. Silly, isn’t it? He’s done nothing more than grow. I’m going to be a wreck at his kindergarten graduation.
(Of course, since the shoes sport a fire engine with red flashing lights, he wanted to play with them in bed last night. Maybe there’s still some growing to do.)
