WonderMom Gets Her Kicks

There’s nothing like a new pair of shoes to get your groove on.  Even Wonder Woman (that’s me) has to slip out of the red and white vinyl villian crushers once in a while. These boots were made for stompin’, but they’re a little tiresome on the tootsies. Contrary to popular belief, Wonder Woman ain’t gettin’ any younger. If I’m not gellin’, I’m swellin’.

My WonderMom, the Queen of the Amazons,  has been battling the mighty foe Cancer for quite some time. She’s tired from the fight, but determined to keep on “Chinging!”  So after a recent visit to the doctor, she suggested a quick trip to the SuperHero Shoe Palace. 

Risking global security, I must reveal that the idea had me shakin’ in my bullet-proof boots.  Even though I’m Wonder Woman, I still have to tackle tricksters like Temptation and the mere sight of a nifty new pair of slippers is like Superman’s cryptonite – they make me weak in the knees when I blow through the shoe store door. I can’t bring myself to leave the place empty-handed. It’s just not possible.  The smell of new leather, the color of canvas and the feel of high quality fake fur makes me woozy…there’s no antidote other than a pricey purchase before fleeing the area. My husband, Prince Charming (I know, he’s not who you expected as my spouse…read my other posts), ordered Mr. Freeze to crystallize the WonderCard just last week. I’ve learned to stay away…unless there’s a Super Sale.

On this particular day, the youngest WonderTeen was along for the ride. He took on a deathly pallor upon realizing he would have to accompany not one, but two Wonder Women on a shopping spree. It’s an extreme lesson in patience he will learn to master when he furthers his Super Hero MAN training. We promised him a trip to WonderGamer to calm his fear. We know how to handle these situations. That’s why we’re allowed to wear tiaras. Duh.

After arriving at the shoe store, I helped the Queen to a comfortable chair. I started to feel panic (or was that indigestion?) rapidly rising as I heroically averted my eyes away from the huarache aisle. I asked WonderMom what she wanted to try on.

“I want a new pair of high-top Converse sneakers like the one’s I had when I played high school basketball,” she said, smiling sweetly.

Huh?  No nubuck leather loafers, leopard print slip-ons or lofty down-filled loungers?  Hmmm…this might be easier than I thought! Or…would it? Studying the situation, I adjusted my bracelets, took a deep breath and started on a Super Search for the shoe of WonderMom’s memories.

I was brave, I tell you. Shiny strap happy wedges perched up high tried to snag me and feisty faux alligator pumps attempted to gnaw at my resolve, but I was on an important life-changing mission. I had faced bigger bullies. After deftly creeping around the corner and knocking an evil oxford aside, I found the sneaker aisle. Sweat trickled down my forehead. Those sneaky little kickers laughed at me while I lassoed every pair I could find in the Queen’s size. 

Balancing a tower of boxes, I leapt over Catwoman, noticing her effort to pull on a pair of 6-inch spike heels. Daaang…she still wears those?  The finicky tramp said she didn’t remember me while she strained to suck in the old menopot and dig the catsuit out of her craw. 

I’ll remember that when the SuperWare invites go out, Cat Skank.

I finally made it to the other side of the store and managed to place the boxes next to WonderMom’s chair without stumbling. She was amazed, but nervously eyed her choices: pink, red, checkered and black. “I like pink, because it’s Breast Cancer Month, but I have enough of that color at home…I’ll try the red.”  I slipped the red shoes on her feet. She looked down at them long and hard. “Nah…these won’t work either…they look too much like your work boots.”   I pointed to the checked design…she nodded disapproval.  “AquaMan’s mother has those.”

WonderTeen’s eyes rolled back in his head.

Only one pair left.  “I think the black ones are neat…let’s try those,” she said.  I placed the black pair on her feet, laced them up and reached out to help her stand. Then, taking her hand, we did the Super Hero Stroll.

WonderTeen foamed at the mouth while I plead with the gods back at Themyscira.

“WOW! These are WONDERful!” she cried.

WonderMom’s face was full of life…something I hadn’t seen lately.

I grinned. WonderTeen snapped out of the trauma induced delirium.

The Queen of the Amazons wore the spiffy new SuperKicks home that day and has happily donned them ever since. Her step is lighter and her outlook sunnier.

 And for the first time in my Wonder Woman life, I left a shoe store wearing only a smile.