Dad Knows Best

Cody recently broke his favorite flip flops while chasing one of our cats. The bare foot cat chaser came up the stairs, slops in hand, with the look of utter despair on his face. “My best slops are broken” was all he could say, again and again and again and again. The only thing that would return him to his chipper self was my offer of a new pair of slops.

Now taking kids shoe shopping is a nightmare at the best of times, but when the child is autistic with sensory issues, it becomes a herculean task. We piled into the car and headed to our local shopping mall, which happens to be the largest in the southern hemisphere. This, for most, is a benefit, as everything is under one roof. But when your son only likes to park on level A1 and the shoe shops are on level Z99, it becomes an expedition. We had to plan a half way stop at the Milky Lane for some ice-cream and waffles and a banana split and then some pancakes for dessert. After our snack stop, off on the dreaded shoe hunting we went.

Now Cody has a knack of being able to choose the most expensive items without ever seeing the price. So being a wise and cunning chap I decided to go to the pricier shops first and save all that time rummaging through the discount bin at the wholesale shops.I should have realized that the first shop was out of our price range when the assistant offered us a doll sized cup of espresso and two tiny biscuits, named after a long dead British Baroness, as we entered. Luckily for me the shoes were as hard as the biscuits on offer, so Cody, after letting them know their shoes were rubbish, and with a few of the posh cookies in his pocket, walked out.

The next port of call was a sports shop. This in hindsight was a stupid move on my part, as The Soccer World Cup is only 5 days away and the only shoes on sale had some unknown Italian footballers face emblazoned on the sole. For the privilege of walking on the pride of Italys face, we had to pay the price of a small car. So we left, but not before we had bought 5 flags, 3 jerseys and the obligatory vuvuzela. The vuvuzela is a trumpet-like instrument, which has the sole purpose of being louder than 50 000 British football hooligans. But enough of that, it will get a posting all of its own soon.

After 4 or 5 more “upper class” shops we had got no closer to securing a purchase, so I had to admit defeat and go to the bargain basement shops. Cody and I have a bond deeper than I can explain in this post, so I knew that he would find nothing that he liked at these shops. Reluctantly I followed him into the first shop, to find him quietly standing at the counter with a pair of shoes firmly in his grasp. Speechless, for the first time in years, I walked over to Codes and checked the shoes out. They were the right size, looked good and best of all, they were cheap.