Grandmas Shoes

When I was very little

All the Grandma’s that I knew

All walked around this world

In ugly Grandma shoes



You know the ones I speak of,

Those black clunky-heeled kind,

They just looked so very awful

That it weighed upon my mind.



For I knew, when I grew old

I’d have to wear those shoes,

I’d think of that from time to time

It seemed like such bad news.



I never was a rebel,

I wore saddle shoes to school,

And next came ballerinas

then the sandals pretty cool.



And then came spikes with pointed toes,

Then platforms, very tall,

As each new fashion came alone

I wore them, one and all.



But always, in the distance

Looming in my future there,

Was that awful pair of ugly shoes,

The kind that Grandma’s wear.



I eventually got married

And then I became a Mom

Our kids grew up and left

And when their children came along



I knew I was a Grandma

And the time was drawing near

When those clunky, black, old lace-up shoes

Was what I’d have to wear



How would I do my gardening

Or take my morning hike?

I couldn’t even think about

How I would ride my bike!



But fashions kept evolving

And one day I realized

That the shape of things to come

Was changing right before my eyes.



And now when I go shopping

What I see fills me with glee,

For in my jeans and Reeboks

I’m as comfy as can be.



And I look at all these teenage girls

And there upon their feet

Are clunky, black old Grandma shoes,

And they think they’re really neat.