Mommy Two Shoes

Last week, I took Cara to the community center where she was performing with her school choir.  I decided I needed to dress a little nicer than the paint-splattered sweatpants I'd worn earlier that day while cleaning out closets and getting stuff organized to be given away.

After the outdoor tree-lighting ceremony, we headed inside for cookies, hot chocolate, and a bit of socializing.  I walked over to where Cara was sitting on the floor with a group of her friends when Cara pointed at my feet and said, "Mom, your shoes don't match!"  I look down as one of the moms assured me that it was hardly noticeable and Cara and her friends began to giggle.

This does not make my OCD happy. Not one bit.

Although I would have preferred being told this embarrassing tidbit in private, it was a good thing she caught my error.  Just hours earlier, I had put a similar set of mismatched shoes in one of the bags I had organized for donations.

But my favorite part of this whole incident? When Cara told me that my two black shoes didn't match, this was what she was wearing: