Your brother and sister run off upstairs with quick pouts, leaving your mother and father just grinning down at you.
"So dear, same as usual?" Your dad asks, amusement in his voice.
"Actually," Sandra says, putting a finger to her red lips, "I think we could go for a walk tonight, John."
You dad just waits silently as your mom lifts you off the ground, carrying you to the front door where the shoes are. "So, whose shoes tonight, little man? You daddie's loafers?" She holds you over the brown leather shoes, shaking you playfully. "Or mommie's pumps?" Her hand sways over and she smiles, the red heeless pumps looming below you. "Pick, little man!"
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