Ethan loves big peoples’ shoes. The bigger the shoe, the more interest he will have in them. He will walk to the shoe rack, and reappear with a pair of my well-used Adidas sneakers.

One time it was way past his bedtime but this guy somehow felt like he just could not go to bed without sauntering around in Old man’s shoes. This was something that he simply had to do.

I watched from a one-sitter couch that is propped up against the wall. That is my couch. Pretty much the only thing I consider mine in the whole house. The rest belong to Ethan and his mother. Growing up, my old man had a couch that was his only. When he came home and found you in his couch, no word was spoken. You simply stood up and relocated.

Ethan carries the large shoes and sits on the heavy cream carpet with large streaks of chestnut running across it. His face registers a serious concerted expression. He clearly means business with these shoes. You do not want to get in the way of this human and his shoes. Somebody could get hurt.

I watch from the sidelines for my own safety. He raises one leg and roughly pushes it into the oversized shoes. He whines in frustration as he struggles with the gravity of his mission. I leave him to his devices.

This project was not my brainchild so I observe from the couch. Finally, he stands up satisfied with the quality of his endeavour.

He grins childishly as he starts walking around, his hands swinging to help him muster better balance. The shoeman feels like he is on top of the world. I am convinced that Ethan would be happy to be left home alone provided we furnished him with a mountain of shoes.

One time I discovered him ready to take the stairs in his mother’s trainers. He was clad in a gray vest, a diaper and the sneakers.

I do not understand how diapers and sneakers go together but anything is possible in limitless world of toddlers. I do not know how he managed to open the door, but motivation makes humans achieve impossible feats.

I carried him back into the house as he yelled in protest. It appears that children have a fascination with grownup’s shoes; some sort of right of passage they all go through.