This was my daughter, Erika’s shoe when she was three. I once had a photo of her in these tennis shoes and wearing a pink dress. She was so beautiful. I lost the photo and have been regreting it for years. I don’t suppose any of you have found it.
One evening at that age, she came up behind the paper I was reading and slapped it out of my hands. I was startled as I had not seen her coming. I loudly exclaimed “quit it!”. She said she was sorry it was an accident. I said no; that was on purpose. “What’s on purpose”? I tried to explain the difference between accident and on purpose with a spilt glass of water being either intentionally tipped or inadvertently knocked over. She did not understand and walked away visibly frustrated.
The next morning she was in bed with us as usual and asked me to get her a glass of water. I told her she was a big girl now she could get it herself. I then rolled over and went back to sleep. A short time later I awoke with a cry. She had picked a cold can of soda from the refrigerator and placed it on my bare back. When I jumped up and looked at her she had a demure little smile and said “that’s on purpose”.