Yesterday afternoon, Sharon and I joined the Quinceañera trip to the capital (we drove all the way to the capital!) so the girls could buy their high heels for the big day in June. Fifteen 15 year-olds. One small shoe store. Hundreds of shoes. None in the right sizes, of course. Had to find the perfect pair. Couldn't buy something similar to someone else. "I want them, but they are killing my feet." Hours later and "Come on, you've literally tried on every pair in the store."