What a croc.

I bought Hartwell some crocs recently. Possibly my least favorite shoes. To me, they look like a disease growing science experiment. Sweaty feet and dirt? Yuck. But Hartwell has Fred Flintstone feet and all the other shoes were too narrow for him. Then, once his brother had a pair, Bee wanted some. I got Bee's at Target. Which Hartwell was very sweet about pointing out,"Yours are from Target. They don't have a strap. Or a crocodile." Scamp. They also forced Bee to walk like a slippered grandpa shuffling toward the boob tube. He kept losing a shoe and didn't want to walk. So there I am, at a ginormous outdoor mall suspiciously devoid of kids shoe stores. (Unless you count Kitson and their $48 adidas). Suddenly, my brain led me to a paper store and a rubber band ball and voila! His shoes stayed on and he could run! Run like the wind!

That rubber band ball is going everywhere with me.