Pink sparkle boot

Many months ago, before the rains started so whenever that, I for some reason had only Lily and Cyrus with me and I took them to Nordstrom Rack. I don't know if we had a specific shopping goal in mind, I assume we did because otherwise I can think of no reason I would have taken them there. In our time shopping we came upon a selection of rain boots. They were stoked and I let them each pick a pair, feeling very ahead of the game since we already had boots that would fit the Littles. Cyrus got some grey ones with red and yellow monster trucks. Lily picked these pink glitter numbers.

The monster truck boots are still a favorite but the pink sparkles? Never worn because somehow only one pink sparkle boot ever made it to our house. Where is it's mate? In the store? The parking lot? A street somewhere? I weep.

This lone pink sparkle boot has meandered its way through various spots in the house, sometimes out of the way because I couldn't stand to look at it. Sometimes front and center to remind me to call Nordstrom Rack to see if perhaps they had the other one. Or if perhaps they would be willing to break up another pair and sell me or preferably give me its made-up match?

Months passed. I never called. The rains came. Lily never had boots that fit her. The pink sparkle boot, momentarily a symbol of my having my shit together and thereafter a symbol of all that is wrong with me and with motherhood and with kids' shoes and with consumerism and landfills and clutter.

I think it's a size 9 if anyone wants it.