If you were a toddler, where would you put your shoes?
Dec 22nd, 2005 by Tana
This is precisely the question I asked myself many times yesterday morning. We had an appointment at the dentist at 11:00. It takes twenty minutes to get there. I was ready to go at 10:30…all except for putting on Ben’s coat and shoes.
Shoes. Did I say shoes? Where did Ben put his shoes? When he puts his toys away in odd places, if you ask him where one of them is, he gets this smile on his face and goes straight over to his odd place and retrieves it. He loves his shoes. You would think he would also know where they are. But no – not a clue. He just gives me this blank look when I ask him where his shoes are.
So I started looking. I started looking in previous odd places where I had found his shoes before. On the low shelves of the bookcases. In with the mixing bowls in the lower kitchen cabinets. The laundry hamper (that’s where mine were…and I didn’t put them there!). Behind the computer. In my Mary Kay bags. Under the lamp table next to the couch. Under his bed. Under our bed. Under the couch. Did I say in the laundry hamper? There is a reason why I do laundry every day…and it has nothing to do with not owning enough underwear.
I looked and I looked and I looked some more. Where would Ben’s shoes be? If I were Ben, where would I have put my shoes? It’s not like our house is a pigsty or anything. We don’t store things under the beds. Keeping a house immaculate at all times with a toddler at all times is impossible, but each room gets “reset” at least once a day. It was only 10:30 in the morning, and Ben had only been up for three hours. We don’t have a ton of toys because we only allow so many to be in circulation at once. So it wasn’t like they were laying out on the floor in the middle of the room and I just couldn’t see them for all of the clutter.
I looked and I looked and I looked. Time went by: 10:35, 10:40. We’re going to be late now. Ben, where are your shoes? Still, he has no clue. This is the point when I become eligible for the Bad Mother Award. No, I didn’t spank him, but I can’t say I didn’t yell at him. Just a little. Like, “Ben, WHERE ARE YOUR SHOES!?!?!”
I kept looking…in places I knew I had already looked. I had already laid down flat on the floor in front of the couch with my face pressed to the rug and scanned for foreign objects under the couch and the results had been negative. But I decided to go around the back of the couch and try that wonderful exercise. Sure enough, on the far end, stuck up underneath the couch in all its wonderful innerds that hold it together were Ben’s shoes, very safely stashed, I might add. Gracious!
You know how, when you work at a company with lots of employees, they have this chart of all the job descriptions and who does each one? Generally it’s one job per person. At our house, we have a similar little chart, though the latter one-job-per-person part doesn’t really apply. We have a new position, though: Shoe Police. Whenever shoes are seen and they aren’t being worn on someone’s feet, the Shoe Police confiscate them. That’s right – gone! Poof! Disappeared. Like magic. They get put in one of the few places left where toddlers do not explore. And that’s where they stay until it’s time to go outside again.
That’s right – if your shoes are not on your feet, they will disappear. Remember, if the adult Shoe Police don’t get them, the toddler Shoe Police will, and then you never know where you will find them. So the rule is for both adults and children alike.
And in case you’re wondering, we were only five minutes late.