I went shoe shopping with my son today. That involves going from store to store with me picking up shoes and him responding with mute horror. Apparently he has very specific tastes. Never mind that the shoes he's currently wearing are (literally) falling off his feet--his new shoes must fulfill some mysterious checklist, known only to the boy and unknowable to me. I am, after all, only his mother.
I could have bought 18 pairs of boots (and was sorely tempted to do so) in the time he took to pick out one pair of sneakers.
And when he handed me a box I said, "Only one pair?" Silly me. I figured that, since he'd already spent a half-hour and tried on many, many shoes, he'd have a second favorite. Oh, no. Apparently we had to start the process all over again....