On a Friday afternoon, the Dad and I were setting up camp for the weekend in the dirt. He was rummaging in his cargo pockets for something, when he pulled out one of the lil' dude's Robeez shoes.
"Why are those in your pocket?" I asked.
"I put them in there in case she needed them this morning," he said.
"Needed them . . . as in, to wear?"
"Yeah. We went to Menard's to get water softener salt, I thought someone there might say something about the lil' dude not having any shoes on in the shopping cart. You know, No Shoes, No Shirt, No Service," the Dad finished.
And he was dead serious. I love the things that man thinks of, I really do.
Juicy post-script: she had her pajama's on while at Menard's too. He didn't think of getting her dressed, but he did think of grabbing her shoes.
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