When I was young, I was alleged to have thrown epic tantrums when taken to get new shoes. This may have had to do with being measured by a stranger with a ‘Hi, Can I Help You?’ badge at Long Island’s Stride Rite or the fact that my mother, ever the practical soul, would insist on buying mine a size bigger so that I’d grow into them. I must have had some precognition that my freakish growing foot was only getting started, so the theatrics began.
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