Shoes

This is my mother's account of the "rude" incident.

I was 2 years old.

We lived in Germany, in an appartment.
My mom's friend Sandra was visiting.
This was not an odd thing to occur. Sandra visited often, since she lived across the street.

I wish I knew what had been going through my head. I wish I could remember the burst of extraverted-ness that overcame me that day.













They were sitting on the couch talking. Probably about the stresses of being military wives, living in a country where you don't understand the language. Wife talk.

I walked into the room.
In my hands I was carrying Sandra's shoes. They both looked at me, puzzled.
I placed and/or tossed the shoes toward Sandra.

"Go home" I said.













My mom (the one of the left) was horrified at how rude her child was being.

The only thing I can say in my defense: if her visiting was such a regular occurence, I clearly felt she had exhausted her visit, and I wanted my space back. People always put their shoes on when they leave. I connected the dots. Bam.