Okay, I know this little vent pales in comparison to some of the truly heavy stuff many of you are battling right now. And I apologize for the whine right up front. I'm just struggling overall lately and perhaps my lack of patience is just another sign of my own deeper problem. But I digress! difficult child 1 complained about his shoes bothering his feet the other day. We bought him two new pairs for school at the beginning of September, and he will only wear one of them saying that the other pair does not have any support and they hurt his feet. Fine. I figure we could go look for another pair since he really shouldn't be wearing the same pair day in and day out for both school and P.E. Besides, they are "skate" shoes and don't have a lot of cushion in them like he would need for PE activities. So tonight husband tells difficult child 1 to go out with me to shop for shoes -- there's a store I have in mind since they're having a sale right now and I have an additional discount coupon I can use. We left around 6:50PM and got to the store by 7:15pm. We go inside to the shoe department. I start looking at shoes and price tags and find a pair that's in our budget range and ask difficult child 1 if he likes them. No, he doesn't. I find another pair. Nope, doesn't like those either. Okay, can you tell me just WHAT you don't like about them? Well, no not really. I heave a heavy sigh and move down the row looking for more possibilities. By now, difficult child 1 is wandering off to look at some electronics out in the main aisle. Helllllooooooo! We are here for SHOES. I direct him back to the SHOES. He just looks at me with this goofy grin like it's some kind of funny game now. So I told him I would sit down and he could look for shoes since he couldn't tell me what he wanted. Nope. He doesn't want to look for shoes now. AAAARRRGGGGH! I got really ticked and said we were leaving and that when he finally decided he was ready to look for shoes, he could let his dad know because I was done. And we left, barely 10 minutes after arriving in the store. Probably a rash thing to do, and I couldn't help but fume the rest of the way home. And of course, he was Mr. Apologetic, but I felt like it was more a reaction to my being mad at him than for truly understanding the pain he was being in my behind.