SwampDaughter was telling me about an issue that Dylan had that morning. He HATES anything being tight on his body. He had a complete meltdown while on the way to school because his shoes were tied too tightly, took them off and threw them, took off his socks, threw THEM, and then cried because one of his socks couldn’t be located when they arrived at school. Mommy had to double knot his shoes tightly when they got there. Why? Because he couldn’t tie them and they needed to stay tied during the day.
That’s right. He’s struggling to learn reading and math in kindergarten, but doesn’t know how to tie his shoes. I told Mommy that I would fix THAT this weekend. Dang. SwampDaughter has waaaaaaay more patience than I ever did. I ain’t had time fo’ dat. They (SwampChildren) learned how to tie their shoes their ownselves at a very early age. “Oh, wait. You want ME to bend over and tie those shoes? Uh, NO. You are waaaaaay closer to the ground, short stuff. THIS is how we tie shoes.” SwampChildren were also cooking, doing laundry, cleaning floors, etc. at a pretty early age, too. Hey, I didn’t want to! “If I would have wanted to do it myself”, I told them, “I wouldn’t have had children”.
But, in the meantime, I called SwampDaughter’s attention to my shoes sitting beside the door. I picked them up and showed them to her. “Do you see how tightly they’re laced?”
“Um. Yeah.” SwampDaughter did not see where this was going at all, looked at my shoes and then at me, wondering if there was a point to this.
“Watch me put them on!” I slid them on my feet. “Watch me take them off.” I slid my feet out of them. SwampDaughter looked at me as though I had lost my mind entirely. “Watch me again. I’m sliding my feet in. I’m sliding my feet out!”
At this point, SwampDaughter was pretty sure I’d lost my mind.
“Did you wonder HOW I was able to slide my feet in and out of my tennis shoes that were tightly laced without untying them?”
“I never thought about it. Okay, how?”
“I replaced my shoelaces with elastic.” I’m in and out of the house constantly, and I slip my shoes off at the door. After several times in and out and tying shoes and untying shoes and tightening laces and loosening laces, I’d had it. I went to Walmart, got some elastic approximately the same width as my shoelaces, and replaced them. The elastic is tied in a permanent knot, and I just slip ’em on and off as I enter and leave.
“That would be perfect for Dylan! Does the elastic come in black?”
I shrugged. “Not at Walmart. Maybe at a fabric store.” Personally, I’d give Dylan some permanent markers and let him design his own laces, but that’s just me. Of course, Dylan is also likely to design his own walls, furniture, clothing, sister, etc., if not closely supervised, so maybe not. But who am I to interfere with artistic genius? (grin)
“I was going to sew the ends together but couldn’t find my needles, so I just decided to tie ’em permanently. You may decide to sew them.”
SwampDaughter made a derisive snorting noise and indicated that tying the elastic together was good enough for her.
HOW did I miss that Dylan couldn’t tie his shoes? I’m a BAD MeeMaw for not observing this! D’oh! Maybe he wore those shoes with the velcro fasteners.