"It's a pretty day and I am going barefoot. It's spring time and time to get rid of these tight shoes." The little boy looked up at his mother who was icing a cake. "Mom these shoes will cramp my feet and I won't grow, and then I will be short like Uncle Shorty."

"Bob, how dare you talk of uncle Shorty as being short, shucks he is nearly four-foot-twelve, and if your shoes are tight, that won't keep you from growing tall." She ran her finger through the icing and pointed it at her seven year old son, who immediately licked her finger and sucked all the icing off. Sometimes she would dab a little icing on his nose and he would get upset till she let him lick the icing.

The little boy fidgeted and looked around, trying to figure out how to get his mother to say he could go barefoot. "Mom, Billy Sims has been going barefoot for a week now, and Joe. Joe said he went barefoot during the last snow." And with the look most little boys have, he looked up at his mother. "Mom, can't I just take my shoes off and go run around the house, huh mom, huh, can't I, please, pretty please?"

The lady had only told him forty two times since he got home from school and hour ago, that he could not go barefoot yet, for it was too cold. "Do you remember last year when you decided you were going barefoot and you came home from school, took off your shoes, and ran outside. And as you started around the house you stepped on a piece of glass. You didn't like sitting in the Emergency room waiting for them to sew that foot up. Remember?"

"Yes mom, but I was running so fast and because I was barefoot I just ran faster than I could see. That is how I stepped on that piece of glass. This time mom, I will run slower so I can see the glass."

"Bob, and with that cut foot you had to walk on crutches for three weeks, and you missed field day at school." What a time they'd had for Bob was a good little runner and he had so much wanted to win the hundred yard dash for his class. Instead, he had been on crutches.

"And do you remember you tried to run on your crutches and popped your stitches, and broke your nose when you fell down. You were my crooked-nose son, Bob, the crutch racer." She laughed and gave him a big dab of chocolate icing.

As Bob licked his mouth after taking the glob of icing from her finger he looked up at her, those brown eyes sparkling with devilment, and that angelic smile. "But mom, I had to stand up for Goshen's first grade and try to win it so those Clark's school wouldn't win it." He leaned back and swelled his small chest and put his thumbs in his armpits, "We just had to try mom, a man has to try, doesn't he mom?"

"And if you run outside barefooted and hurt your foot, then Clark school might win it again this year, and you wouldn't want that would you?" About then Bob heard a car in the driveway; he turned and ran out the back door, for it should be his dad coming home form work.

In a couple minutes Bob came flying in the back door carrying his father's dinner bucket, "Dad is home and I will ask him, OK mom?"

Mr. Sipes came in and kissed his wife, and sat down at the table and opened the paper.

"How was your day dear," his wife asked as she put the iced cake on top of the refrigerator?

"Jim Clawson got hurt today, leaned too far while on a ladder and it fell over and he broke his right arm and two ribs, now we will be shorthanded and Mr. Carson wants to get the job done this week." Mr. Sipes was a carpenter and they were building a new Wendy's over next to the bypass. "Oh Bob wants to go barefooted, how many times have you told him no so far today?"

"Forty at least, your son is one determined little boy, think we should let him go barefooted around the house?"

"When I was his age we went barefooted before Easter, and sometimes in the snow, why not let him, and hope he gets cold feet or stubs his toe. Let him have a little freedom," for he knew that with that statement the argument was on, for little girls did not go barefooted, only farmers and those who could not afford shoes, his wife would say.

"You will take him to the Emergency room if he has to go, OK?" For she knew her husband hated hospitals of any sort.

He stood up, kissed his wife, "OK, it's a deal but you tell him, for if I do it will look like I may have usurped you."

"Bob, Bob, come here please," she hollered, and soon she heard the rapid footsteps of her son.

"Yes maam," He was all smiles, "Did dad change our mind, for I know dad went barefooted cause he lived in the country and only had one pair of shoes a year," the little boy was beaming.

"Your dad and I talked it over and OK, but please be careful," and she immediately heard a thump as Bob sat down in the floor and walla! His shoes were off, and he started to run around through the house, yelling and his little feet going splat, splat, splat.

"Going outside mom, going outside and run through that big mud puddle next to the garage," and out the door he went.

Before his mother could say, "Be careful and look out," she heard a big yell. She and her husband ran outside to find their son sitting in a big mud puddle, all wet, dirty wet and screaming. "What did you do?" she asked.

The little boy looked up and pointed to his foot which he was holding, "Look mom, I got a boo boo," as the tears streamed down his cheek.

Mrs. Sipes looked and he son had stubbed his toe and broken the toe nail nearly off. She looked at her husband, "I will keep supper warm," and she turned and walked back into the house. About nine they arrived back, and Bob was fast asleep, until Mr. Sipes carried him in the house.

"Mom, look at my bandage," Bob said in a sleepy voice. Mom looked down and he had a large bandage on his big toe, and since his big toe was not that large, the bandage wasn't really that large but Bob was proud of it.

Mrs. Sipes nodded and her husband took Bob upstairs, undressed him and put him in bed. When he came back down stairs he was shaking his head, "You were right, what a zoo, what a crazy zoo, three hours to get a doctor to tell us he had knocked his big toenail off, and for me to tell them it did not require an X-ray, for I had pulled the toe and twisted it before I took him to the hospital, and it is in joint and OK."

"When I was a child we didn't go to the hospital for something like that, only if it was broken or need stitches," and she smiled, "Now days it is to the doctor for any and everything." Her husband looked beat, "I kept your supper warm," she said as she sat a plate of food on the table, and poured her husband a large glass of cold milk.

The next morning Bob was up early, and hobbling around, walking on his heel. "Mom, mom, what kind of shoe can I wear to school today?" His mother looked at him and cringed. "Mom, maybe since I have a sore foot I should stay home from school today, yeah mom, maybe I should stay home from school."

"Come on son," she said and upstairs they went and every pair of shoes hurt Bob's toe. She was about to say, go barefooted when a thought hit her, "Come on son, you will have a new pair of Bob shoes, you want one Bob shoe or a pair of special Bob shoes?"

The little boy's eyes lit up as the word special hit him, "Can I wear them over my sore toe mom?" He held up his foot, "Don't want to hurt my sore toe mom."

Mrs. Sipes rummaged around in Bob's closet and finally came out with a pair of Indian moccasins. She went into her sewing room, and came back with a razor cutter and a pair of scissors. She put a heavy sock over her son's foot; the she took the razor cutter and cut out where the bandaged toe would go. "Lets try this son, a Bob special moccasin," and she tried to slip it on. Not enough cut away. Within five minutes her son was shod and his nice big white bandage on his big toe showed so every one could see he had a boo boo. She then adjusted the other moccasin to fit and put a sock on that foot and slipped his moccasin on. "How is that Bob, a special Bob shoe to take care of your sore toe?

Bob jumped up and kissed his mom, "Thanks mom, now I have something for show and tell," and he ran to get ready for school. Mrs. Sipes thought, yesterday barefooted, today boo boo, tomorrow what no shirt for it is summer time?