the agony of da feets

Upon seeing a picture last weekend of Zane at a birthday party in cowboy attire with tennis shoes, his loving Papa insisted on buying him some authentic boots!
So this weekend, when Nana and Papa came to babysit for the day they brought what may be the best present Zane has ever received. Jeff said when he opened the package his face lit up like a four-year old boy who had just gotten a pair of authentic cowboy boots!
He didn’t take them off until 2 full days later. He ran around, he rode his scooter, he went for a big walk, the whole time carrying his big, plastic, orange gun in the belt he was using as a holster.
This morning, at 7am I heard some crying coming from downstairs. I thought, wow! I haven’t heard that in years (and I said a little prayer of thanks for that realization).
Darla announced that Zane’s ankles hurt.
Zane couldn’t get out of bed. He couldn’t even sit up because his ankles, his knees and his hamstrings were so sore! Poor little chicken. I gave him some Tylenol, got out the heating pad and gave him a little massage. We talked about what made this happen because of course he had NO idea.
He said, “From now on I will wear the boots on Sunday and not Monday. Wednesday and not Thursday. On Friday and not Saturday. … or maybe just for a little bit on Saturday.”
It was the cutest thing you ever heard.
I did get him out of bed. We shuffled to the bathroom. It was just like helping a little old man excpet he’s 3 feet tall.
He’s at pre-school now and I’m sure the fun of telling everyone about the boots is easing the pain even further.