October 27, 2005
The bottom rung
Where I grew up the WORST thing anyone could do was wear socks with sandals. Luckily it was an affliction that we saw rarely, mostly on TV, and one that we were convinced affected only the British. So it came as a bit of a shock to me when I first arrived in the Netherlands, almost 5 years ago, to discover that the habit had crossed the Channel and was far more widespread than I'd ever imagined.
This morning Jacob's Dutch genes woke up on the bossy side and motherely love was stretched to it's very limits. Discovering his summer sandals Jacob decided they were the perfect accompaniment to his already considered outfit. As the rest of this outfit had entailed lengthy discussions and negotiations I took the cowards' way out and reached for a pair of socks to at least adapt the sandals to the weather.
And so it was that this morning I stepped out onto the pavement into a full-blown existential crisis. Not only was I walking down the street with a boy wearing sandals-with-socks but worse, I KNEW for a fact that his mother had dressed him in them.
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