We were on our way home and I only had to pop in to the supermarket for some milk. Of course Niamh pulled a sneaky move on me. Shoe-adoring folk can not be trusted.
“Mum, I know there are no tip-taps in this shop, but if there were… could we buy them? Pleeeeassssse?”
Me thinking there would be no chance of there being tip-taps in among the groceries said, “Yes, no problem.” So in we go, and Niamh heads straight for the back of the shop. One pair of pink plastic tip-taps on the shelf behind the girls magazines. How did she know? I’m such a dope.
As she never forgave me for throwing out the old tip-taps that the dog chewed up, I totally caved.
She had to get them straight out of the box and straight on to her feet before we left the shop. Tight as they were, she insisted they were perfect. I don’t know where she inherited the ‘shoe-gene’ from. Dear love her, she has my feet. The kind of feet made for socks and wide fitting trainers. I’ll never tell her. To a shoe-loving four-year-old that would be worse than saying there was no Santa. She doesn’t feel finished until she has the right shoes on. Her finest moment was when she strolled through Heathrow Airport in her new lightup, sparkle ‘twinkle-toes’ and EVERYONE noticed the shoes. Her worst moment was when her best friend Aoife strolled into nursery class wearing the latest and lushest pair of ‘lelli kellys’. Let’s not go there.
One pair of pink plastic tip-taps please. And a pint of milk.
Tip-taps: Any type of footwear that can inflict pain or injury to the foot, but are willingly suffered because they are pretty, pink, sparkly, heeled and make the right sounds when you walk.