Mom's pink shoes.

The beauty of being 2 years old… All you do is play. If you want an apple, you get an apple. If you want a banana, you get a banana. You laugh, dance, sing. You get to watch cartoons sitting with your arms around your two best friends, one brown and one blue teddy bear.

There’s a full service pink kitchen at your disposal and no obligation to cook a dinner for a family of three. A pink computer grabs your attention as you type away to a sing along, with no deadlines to meet. The telephone is pink, but you don’t worry about having to sit through that important conference call.

Needless to say, with all my pink references, my little muse is a ravishing girl with a pink bow hugging her blond locks and a shirt with pink sparkly crystals. All those play things get boring too easily for my smiley heroine, however. Her main focus is something else entirely. What could be more fascinating than her mom’s flip flops, especially when they are pink as well? They do not compare to her own pink, warm snuggies that have the features of a cute animal that resembles something between a piggy and a doggy.

And so even at two years old we begin to spend our lives knowingly or not, trying to fill our mom’s much bigger, much brighter, much more grown-up shoes.