Before I begin, I’m sure you are wondering why I want to share a story about a child’s snow boot in April. Date wise we have launched into spring and I can’t even pull this off as an April Fool’s joke, as this too is well behind us. Yes, you’re right, it therefore, can’t be about a boot. This is a story about guilt.

I tend to plan mini adventures with my grandchildren (ages one to six) hence ‘mini’. If they hang in there with me and we advance into ‘grand’ adventures, I will definitely invest in a compass. I do possess a Fox whistle and a walking stick that doubles as a weapon, but this only takes me, Alma, and trusting grandchildren so far.

Back to Mae’s boot. It’s December and Victoria Park in Kitchener is lit up with lights. My idea is that Sam and Mae would love a stroll through the park.

Now lets back up to November when all four of the grandchildren tribe, Sam, Willem, Atticus and Mae, were gung ho for a hike up at Laurel Creek Conservation.

Oh yes — an important aside. Both of these excursions I asked my daughter Holly, the mother of Sam and Mae, to accompany me.

We arrive at Laurel Creek and I forgot it was off season. You can no longer drive in. You have to park on the road and trek in, before you can even get started. Holly suggests we walk the road in and turn around and go home — its cold and it’s windy.

I made an attempt to rally the troops, “No, we can’t give up. Once we hit the woods there won’t be any wind, we’ll be protected.” And protected we were, from the wind — not so much from the mud holes, puddles and getting lost. The grand kid tribe was good. Holly, not so much.

Once we found our way back to the path. I yelled out, “Let’s celebrate with snacks!”
The grand kids yelled, “YEAH!”
Holly yelled, “No, not until we get to the cars!”

Holly, pulled out her phone and over the air waves it was Taylor Swift’s (you guessed it) “Shake it Off”. I knew Holly secretly wanted to celebrate too that we were on our way back to civilization. And where there is singing, dancing isn’t far behind. Willem and Holly donned in rubber boots kicked their heals up and danced their way to the cars.

Forward to December and the evening of the Victoria Park Winter Wonderland excursion where Holly suggests we do a drive-by in lieu of a hike. Again, I must rally the troops, “No, we can’t give up.” Even though it’s minus three, Sam, echoes me that he is up for a winter wonderland adventure. Off we go – Sam running ahead and Mae in the stroller.

A short time in, Mae begins to whimper. We rewrap her with a blanket, but after awhile, she starts up again. I now know that the whimper translates into One Year Old Baby for, “I’ve lost a boot you idiots and frost bite is settling into my left foot!”

Finally Holly picks her up and discovers that Mae is minus one boot. Mae and Holly head back to the car – Sam jumps into the stroller and the two of us make off at break-neck speed back tracking our way through the park in search of Mae’s boot. We then alternate. Sam, Mae and I in the car and Holly takes a turn with the light from her phone. No boot. We head for home.

I drop them off and say good night. Another foiled Alma excursion. Tomorrow is school and Mae and Holly will have to walk Sam to the bus stop. Yes, oh yes — the guilt is taking hold nicely. Right now not even a compass would see me out of this.

I’m off to Zehrs, to replace Mae’s, Joe Fresh boots size six. The second Zehrs I score and back to Holly’s I return with new boots for Mae.

I leave with the instructions. “Keep the tags and don’t get the boots dirty.” My plan is to return to the park first break of day in search of a size six boot.

Out of my car and ready to be successful my phone rings. “Mom, bad news. The boots you bought are a size six on the tag, but inside they are a size five and I can’t get them on Mae’s feet.”

Wow – is there no end to this guilt — this you’ve screwed up again momentum. Really Life?

But, I’m not ready to give up. At this point – I’m not sure if it’s me or the boot I’m not ready to give up on, but I’m heading into the park. And then my dear, dear inner voice says, “Not this way. Take the same route you took last night.” I stop, correct my course and begin.

Twenty or so steps in and there in the middle of a patch of a mud and grass is Mae’s boot! Just sitting there, waiting for the guilt-ridden Alma to retrieve it.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I drop the boot off. I knew Sam would be impressed. Mae will be someday when I tell her in a way that she just has to see me as the hero.

The guilt – I’ve left it behind in the park with a little “Shake it Off” choreography. After all it gets in the way of adventures. And true adventures are meant to be riddled with mud holes and lost boots.

Photo’s by; Sharon Cooke