Why Tie?

They caught my eye in the grocery store- immediately I noticed and appreciated the difference- Israeli? Eastern European? Look how the dark-haired son, as tall as his mother, holds her arm lightly and leans in toward her- as they both push the cart- a closeness you rarely see in an American male. Especially one on the cusp of adulthood. Quite subtle, they weaved through the aisle, quiet as birds. As I stood at the checkout counter with my own son who now towers over me- I remind him to take the items from the cart and put them on the conveyer belt- he bounces slightly- likely looking for lovely Emma- (his favorite check out person) longing to break away from me to ride the staff-only elevator. “Come on now, put the peppers there”- I say, a hint of sharpness in my voice. I always feel judged by this check-out lady- her cold dark stare, moon face- slow to smile. Fuck it, I think. Then as I turn to get the items out of the cart, a small voice, the woman and her son are there. “Excuse me, where did you get his shoes?” she asks motioning to my son’s size 14 slip ons.

I am taken aback. No accent. She is American. Then it becomes clear. She, they- are one of us.  “Why I don’t know, his dad bought them.” She is determined, motions to her son- “orange is his favorite color and while we are working on it, Luke still is not able to tie his shoes.” At that point I would give her half of the money in my wallet. “Here take off your shoe so we can see the brand.” My son stands, smiling, slowly slipping his huge foot out of the shoe. I lift it off the ground, it’s warm and stinks. It doesn’t matter that he also slips out of the other shoe too. Standing in socks. “Ah here it is Andi” I spell it for her. “We gave up on tying shoes, it really doesn’t matter and there are so many brands today that don’t require tying.” I name a few other brands I know, reassuring her that having the fine motor skills to tie two strings together is not important for this world.

We chatted a bit, me longing for more connection- she ready to go- she didn’t want to forget the name of the shoe.

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