One, Two, Buckle my Shoe...

To continue my story from the last entry . . .

We get to my oldest sister's house aproximately 10.5 hours after leaving my house. Major suckiness. Especially after only a 2 hour nap and very little sleep in the car during my sister's leg of the drive. But, we all survived. Barely. ;)

I was eventually able to take a 3 hour nap, which was very nice, and much needed. Upon waking, my mom, sisters, my daughter and I had to go to the store to find some appropriate wedding shoes for me. I've mentioned previously that I have big feet. And having a kid only made them wider and harder to fit into cute shoes (ironically, that is reason #1,304 of Why I Hated Being Pregnant). Went to one store, no luck. 2nd store, no luck. 3rd store, no luck either. It's starting to look more and more like I'm going to have to either go barefoot or wear brown flip-flops to this shindig, and I'm starting to get downright cranky. Are shoe store employees forced to take classes in Large Foot Insensitivity Training? I mean, I can't count how many times people give me The Look when I tell them I'm looking for 11W in a silver dress shoe, with a moderate heel. How difficult can that be? (on second thought, after reading that, it does sound daunting. But please, you're an employee in a shoe store...it shouldn't be THAT hard, right?). We had to go back home because my sister had to get her 2 boys to the school to sign up for varsity soccer, and we had to eat dinner anyway. So, we did that. Then my mom started calling shoe stores. Found a store that had suitable shoes, so my eldest sister and I hit the mall at 8:30pm to get them.

Jackpot! And they were the kind I wanted to begin with! Woot!

All is right with the world again. I have shoes.