…Like being able to put your own boots on.
This is something I took for granted until I had kids.
Kids who love boots.
Kids who love boots and who are sticklers for realism.
‘Cause in this house we don’t do boots with zippers. We don’t do boots with soft, fuzzy insides that don’t require socks.
We don’t do boots with soft, squishy outsides that slip on and off.
We only do boots that look, and smell, and feel like Daddy’s.
And the day I don’t hear “Mama! Help! Peeease!” Followed by a frantic, “Wait f’me! Wait f’me! Wait f’meeee!”
That is a day we mark in our baby books.