I thought they looked about right as I bent to put on my own shoes yesterday. He had taken them off, as he always does, obedient boy that he is, and left them by the front door.
They were easy to try on: two tidy velcro straps pulled snug and voila! you’re done. I’ve never had velcro shoes. Not that I can remember.
So I put them on, and They Fit.
I knew this day would come. And, not in the far distant future, Other Days, like the one when we suddenly see Eye To Eye.
“Hey, William,” I said, “Your shoes fit me.”
“Really?” he said, sounding pleased. He came over to see.
“Yes,” I said, standing up and testing them. “They fit.”
He was impressed, I think, but his question was a good one. “Does that mean I have big feet? Or does it mean that you have small ones?”
