Morjes!

Welcome to my blog. I write about fitting in, sticking out, and missing the motherland as a serial foreigner.

Pink Sparkly Shoe Saga

Let me tell you the story of Miriam's pink sparkly shoes.

I first bought her a new pair of dressy shoes in December to go with her Christmas dress and other church outfits. I bought them on sale at Target, and they were super cute. I use the past tense because after 10 days, they looked like this:


As you can see, the "sparkly" part of the "pink sparkly" was disappearing at an alarming rate. I had already thrown away the receipt since the shoes fit. I certainly hadn't anticipated such shoddy quality. I decided to try my luck returning them to the store anyway. To my surprise, they took them back without a fight. Target must be taking lessons from Costco.

The problem was, Miriam still needed some pink sparkly shoes. She was distraught without them. So one afternoon, we headed out to the stores and found a new pair. They were more expensive than the Target shoes, but they were very, very cute. Observe:



We were all happy with this purchase and I thought the saga had ended. Until...

On Saturday, we visited with an Iraqi refugee family all afternoon. When we finally left, we loaded Miriam up in the car and drove a couple of miles down the road to pick up a few things at Costco (note to self: recommit to the family rule of never going to Costco on a Saturday. At the very least, never go there the day before the Super Bowl). When we got out of the car in the Costco parking lot, we saw one pink sparkly shoe sitting on our car roof, and realized instantly what had happened.

Jeremy drove back to the Iraqis house while Miriam and I did the shopping. He came back empty-handed. I just couldn't believe that we had lost a member of the special pair of pink sparkly shoes!

When we were all in the car together, I decided to take advantage of a potential gospel teaching moment. We said a prayer with Miriam to help us find her pink sparkly shoes. And it took three sweeps of the road we had driven down, but somehow, we saw her tiny shoe strewn on the side of the road near a drainage ditch. Success!

I think we were more excited about the recovery than Miriam was. For all she knew, it was some kind of weird game we were playing. But I, at least, am very glad to be spared the job of finding yet another pair of pink sparkly shoes for little Miriam's feet.

She can talk

Pandora's Box o'Germs