When I was very little,
All the Grandmas that I knew,
Were wearing the same kind,
Of ugly grandma shoes.
You know the kind I mean..
Clunky heeled, black, lace-up 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 along
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 Grandmas 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 little girls
And there, upon their feet
Are clunky, black, old Grandma shoes,
And I really think that's neat.
© Betty Cessna
