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When I get obsessed with something, I can’t really let it go.

In some ways it’s a good thing. Like I sent out a zillion resume tapes until I secured my first TV reporting job in the glamorous city of Great Falls, Montana. If you’ve never been there, it’s like Aspen. Without the fabulous restaurants, fancy shops or glamorous lifestyle. What I mean is, they both have snow.

But in other ways, my driven nature can be a drawback. Like the time I tried on two different sizes of a Gap down coat for 45 minutes (obviously pre-children) because I couldn’t quite decide whether I wanted it to be snug and sexy or have a little extra room for  a sweater underneath. I bought the bigger size. I still wish I had bought the smaller one. I don’t even own the coat anymore.

So when 8-year-old Dylan told me she couldn’t find her new school shoes, I thought, “no problem.” I will find those leopard print wonders! I will do it for Dylan. I will do it for every kid who has ever lost his or her shoes. I will do it for shoe designer Jessica Simpson. Dammit, I will do it for anyone who has ever dated Jessica Simpson!

I began looking in the obvious spots. Like Dylan’s bedroom. The mudroom. The car. The garage. The yard. The attic. Under the couches. The playroom. Okay, seriously, where the hell are they?!

Then I made my girls pray to St. Anthony, the saint of lost things. They had a lot of questions about St. Anthony. I told them, “Look I’m not Catholic. Stop interrogating me. Just focus on the shoes.”

Still nothing.

Listen universe, I will find those shoes. Don’t mess with me. I am not to be toyed with. Last night between my four kids, I was woken up 6 times. That’s more than the prisoners at Gitmo. At one point, 2-year-old Harlowe was standing outside of my room singing at 3 AM.  SINGING. And despite a total crib tent recall, I found one. A safer version in AUSTRALIA. That’s right Harlowe baby. You’ve got 7 to 10 shipping days left to sing in front of my door in the middle of the night. If I can track down an crib tent in Australia, those shoes are mine.

Except maybe they aren’t. So I drag my daughters to Target and descend on the shoe department. Where Summer finds a new pair of shoes! Which would be perfect if Summer had lost hers. But she didn’t. It was Dylan.

We come home.  It seems hopeless. And you know when it comes to shoes, life can seem pretty hopeless.

Then I decide to leave the kids at home with Rick and check out a playground we went to on Saturday.  Yes, it’s dark. Raining. Lightening. Hail winds. Whatever. I drive over there and then I realize. Those mofo shoes are in the bottom of the stroller! I just know it.

I jump out of the car, open the back, pull out the stroller and there they are! I do my own little size 13 1/2 leopard print victory dance in gale force winds.

Jessica Simpson would be so proud.

20 Responses to the lost shoes

  • Angi says:

    I recently had to clean out my car because we bought a new one. I found a pair of my own shoes that I hadn’t seen in a while. It was like finding money in your coat from the year before… Very exciting. Those shoes are very cute. I can understand the desire to locate them. It’s never too early to start them on proper shoe appreciation.

  • Agent99 says:

    just the other day I went on a similar rampage. shreiking through the house “who moved my golf shoes?!!?” (don’t go there. OK?) cursing up a storm, and threatening to fire the babysitter, the husbad and ALL the kids, I looked everywhere. no luck. until I looked under my bed.
    too bad they weren’t as cute as the leopard print flats 🙂

  • Jen says:

    After living in great falls … I am heading to aspen this coming weekend … And the comparison made me laugh out loud. Miss you kk!

  • LOVE IT! And congrats on the crib tent. My 2.5 year-old son transitioned to a bed perfectly this weekend…his twin sister? She learned how to climb out of the bed, the crib, the pack ‘n play and OVER the baby gate we put in her bedroom doorway…and then, when we shut her bedroom door in desparation, she also figured out how to remove the plastic safety thing on the door knob. WTF Safety First?!?!?!?!?

    This is also the girl who tossed her Stride Rite shoe last summer…we thought out the door. We drove around town for well over an hour looking for it before giving up and wondering why Stride Rite doesn’t sell half pairs of shoes because – surely – this must happen all the time. We got home and my stepdaughter opened her back pack and THE SHOE WAS IN THERE! “Oh, yeah,” she says. “I forgot that I put it in there when Arielle took it off.” How do you forget something like that when you’re in the car for an hour driving around looking for said shoe???

  • Steph says:

    Omigosh. I used to be so dogged like that but have lost some of my mojo after two children (especially the teenager:) I’m impressed you have kept yours after 4!

  • Jen M. says:

    I am so glad I am not the only obsessive one with lost things! For the last week, I have been on the Great Baseball Hat hunt of 2012. I was convinced my son left it at the park. I searched the park, called the park district, checked ebay for the same hat online, tore the house apart. Finally found the damn thing BEHIND THE REFRIGERATOR. Seriously?

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kelcey kintner