I was in my sister’s car the other day, on our way to chow down on some sushi, when I saw a big shoebox behind her seat. Being the nosy person that I am, and also knowing that my sister has a kickin’ sense of style, I picked up the box, opened it, and saw a pair of seriously cool bright red Eccos. “Oh, cool! You bought some!” I said. We’d seen lots of exceedingly cool shoes when we were in DC, but neither of us were quite brave enough to take the plunge and buy any (since they were jest a tetch pricey!)

“I bought them, but I’m sending them back. They’re too big,” she replied.

I stroked my hands lovingly over the suede. “How MUCH too big?”

“Try them on!”

After the paroxysms of suede-induced joy faded, I asked, “How much?”

She told me. I went into another paroxysm, but one not quite so joyful. But after careful thought–and the realization that Anna really didn’t need new diapers, I mean, after all, these new diapers can hold something like three gallons, and we’re just spoiling her by changing her diaper every time she has a little tinkle, and those things are something like thirty cents each–I decided that I could afford them.