Like every child, I eventually rebelled, and wanted to dress myself. We were out shopping for Easter shoes, one Saturday, and I found the perfect pair. They were orange patent leather, and the shiniest things you ever saw. She, of course said no, but I insisted. My mom saw this as a learning experience, a chance for me to feel the misery of failure. So, she finally agreed to the purchase, all the while knowing, my Easter dress was pink.
Once, my friend, Ivy and I were looking at old photos. When we came to the group picture of my fourth grade class, she started to laugh. She told me how she, and her older sister Tracy, would make fun of me in my orange shoes. When I came over to their house, Tracy would say, "Here comes Sheila in her orange shoes". Well, it no longer hurts my feelings. The shoes were bright orange and begged to be laughed at. After all, it's not like Tracy ever wore my training bra on her head or scrubbed her dresser drawers with my toothbrush.......Oh wait, she did do that.