“You are not going out with that boy unless his parents are driving and that's that. I'm not just Spitting Grits here, young lady!”

. . . My father, John Thomas Cravey, USAF, to me in 1956.

Grandparents Parenting: Three Blings


Our granddaughter Joanna Leigh is 3! Her birthday party, however, isn’t for another week, and making that distinction was not working very well.


Spring 2010 School Picture

I took big globby fat cupcakes to her preschool day care class and they sang “Happy Birthday.” I had asked her if she wanted a scooter for her birthday. No. She wanted one of those cars for kids. Her feet wouldn’t be able to reach any pedals that might be there. Plus, the answer is NO. Because I said so. That isn’t working very well, either.

So I suggested new shoes. Oh, YES, she wanted new shoes.

We went to Bob Baumhower’s Wings restaurant here in town for their Wednesday Children’s Night. My cousin is the roving magician for those evenings, and he made her a special balloon animal in the likeness of our cat, Patty Cake. Then they brought this gooey powdered sugar beignet dish, with ice cream, raspberry and caramel sauce, and berries; the servers sang “Happy Birthday.”

Then we headed for Target.

She had been asking for “clip clops,” which I took to mean “flip flops.” I could not figure why she, the Queen of Prissy, would want gross shower shoes -- flip flops.

“Ava has some,” she said. “I need some clip clops.”

She has loved her sequined Mary Janes, in red and in silver. They had pink ones! Yea. And best of all, they also had glitter on them.

Two Blings.

Then she saw them. The clip clops. Thong sandals in silver, with what I can only describe as having a fuchsia/orchid colored strap, topped with a butterfly thingy.

“I want these! I need them. These clip clops. Ava has some.”

She wears a size 7 and had grabbed a size huge. I had to go up and down the aisles looking for these clip clops in a 7. I was desperate. Up and down the aisles of shoes. I kept showing her the pink sequined and glittered pink Mary Janes. But, NO.

Finally, a size 7.

She was happier than if it were a Barbie car that really drove.

She took off her shoes and put these on, with the elastic thingy that keeps both shoes in one pair still on them, and off she goes. Walking in very short steps because of the elastic string holding them together.

I was laughing so hard that people turned to look at us.

“We pay our money,” she said, and we did.

Here they are, in their three-Bling glory. She slept with them that night and all the nights since then.

Oh, happiness, thy name is Clip Clops.



Three Bling Shoes






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