When Jared got home last night we piled into the car, drove to the mall, and bought Oliver some new shoes. After wearing his boots all winter, his feet grew 2.5 sizes. No wonder he complained when I put his old shoes back on him. He walked into the shoe store in a size 6.5. He left in a size 9. Oops.
I had a rough time of our second mall trip. After about ten minutes my crotch was hurting so much that I had a hard time walking. My hands and feet swelled up nicely, thanks to the 60 degree reading on the thermometer. I couldn't get my wedding ring off. By the time we made it to Target, I could barely walk the length of the store at a grandma's pace. With his new shoes on, Oliver turned the tables on me and complained that I was walking too slowly. How's that for ironic?
On the car ride home, Oliver was talking about all of the pets he knows. Out of nowhere, he decided to rank them all on a scale. We didn't know he could do this. We didn't know he even knew about about numerical ranking anyway. He must have seen it on TV, because it's not something I taught him. I'm sure he doesn't probably understand it completely, because these were his rankings:
"Bentley and Mya are a ten! Pico is a five! Sunday dog is four! MeowMeow is a W!"
"Is a W better or worse than a four?"