These are my oldest shoes. How old are they? Let's just say that I stole them from my mother's closet at some point in my late teens. So they're a good five years old.
I bought my daughter some clogs last Christmas . . .
. . . but she prefers her Crocs.
She's young. In time, she'll come to understand the superiority of a quality wooden shoe over a rubber slip-on. And when that time comes . . .
She'd better stay out of my closet.
Dinner last night: tacos