Day 17 of #adoptersblogtober

The boys choose these wellies for me, shortly after they came home. We all needed new boots, so we went to Matalan. They chose their own boots, then saw these and declared them perfect for me. I was very touched. It’s the first thing they chose for me.

I’ve worn these boots a lot over the last nine years. We’ve walked through rain, snow, hail and sunshine together.

The boys have gone through a vast number of pairs of shoes in the course of those years. I can’t actually remember what their first wellies looked like. They’ve had do many different pairs. They’ve had wellies in favourite colours and wellies with favourite TV characters printed on them. I suppose if I’d kept a record, it would show their developing tastes.

There have been shoes that have been scuffed to pieces, soles that have been slashed and pierced, and picked apart. As well as old tastes, a gallery of old shoes would remind us of various incidents and adventures.

For a while there, Eldest had the same size feet as me and was able to borrow my boots when something unfortunate happened to his. That wouldn’t work now, though, he’d never get his feet into my shoes.

As they’ve grown, the boys have grown into my shoes, and they’ve grown back out the other side.

It’s a strange thing to watch them outgrowing me. So far, it’s mainly a size thing. They still live here, they still need me to provide, teach, cook, and drive them about. But, already I can see the signs that one day, they will outgrow me completely. One day, they will be adults, managing their own households, their own learning, diets and activities.

I think that’s my job, though. As the boys grow, as they go through dozens of pairs of shoes in many different styles, I stay constant, wearing the same boots, saying the same things, being the still center for them to whirl and spin about.

I guess that’s what shoes remind me of. The children change so much, so fast, and I seem to change much slower and much less.

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