Big foot

Earlier today I was getting my boots on to go out and felt that something about the shoe wasn't quite right. I looked down and realized that what I had slipped my foot into was not my lace-up black boot but my son's very similar looking one. And the scary thing is, it fit! When did my boy's feet get to be the same size as mine? This little fellow I used to tote under one arm? My little peanut-boy! I've been slowly getting used to the fact that he's getting taller, almost as tall as me now, and bigger around the middle, as his inability to keep his pants snapped makes clear, but somehow it never occurred to me that his feet would be adult-sized. Well, okay, small adult-sized. My feet are really fairly tiny. His used to be, too. I remember that. I remember how the first shoes we bought him when we went to pick him up at the orphanage in Russia turned out to be impossibly large, like twin boats on his teensy little tootsies. That was more than 10 years ago now. Time goes by fast. And feet grow.