they a say a child has great insight. and they say that a child would say things that no one else, not even your very best friend, would tell you.

i've always thought i looked hot and fashionable in my sexy, pointy stilettos, until today when a kid in pre-school approached me and started pressing that part of my shoe where no human toe has gone before. after a couple of seconds, he looks up to me and asks, "why are your shoes like this?"

for once, i didn't have anything to say. i looked at him helplessly and tried to make do with a smile. not to be deterred, he continued looking at me, then my shoe, then at me again and pursued his line of questioning, "why are they pointed?"

i could have said to him, "well, all the sex and the city girls wear them" or "aren't you aware that they're the in thing right now?" i could have told him how pointy shoes make your feet look narrow and how pretty they look peeking out of the bottom of your pants. i could have given him a million and one reasons. but i didn't. i was stumped.

dear sweet little boy, i'll admit it. i don't know the answer to your question. but you know what? tonight i'd look at my shoe rack and all my pointy pumps. i'd think back on times such as this, and this, two of the numerous times i've gone home with a nice pointy shoe inside a paper bag. i'd think of the times i nearly sprained my ankle after having tripped and the times i've had to massage my feet after the muscles have cramped from being in an unnatural position the entire day. because, at that very minute, i understood perfectly well what you were thinking: unless my feet were triangular, i had no business wearing triangular tipped shoes instead of round ones.