Baby Shoes, Revisited, Twelve Years On

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I just found some old baby shoes of my son’s in a box, alongside a picture of the little man in question wearing them.

These were George’s first ever shoes. I saved them. I am indeed a sentimental old fool, but who could part with such a symbol of the great ‘walking’ milestone?

From baby to almost-hairy man in such a seemingly meteoric amount of time. Feet no longer cute or indeed kissable. Willingness to be kissed similarly dissipated.

I cannot think that I shall ever let these go.

Life’s a journey, save every Step (metaphorically and literally).

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