The Jordan's Have Landed! The Jordan's Have Landed!

My youngest male child has been on an expedition this morning (since 5 a.m.) with his Dad. It was a shoe hunt. Honest. Kevin just burst into my room now, 3 stores and goodness knows how many malls later, 11:31 a.m., grinning all over his body. SUCCESS!!!! Michael Jordan. #23. A family hero. The reason why my oldest male child's middle name is Michael (true story). The guys love him for sports reasons, basketball or something like that. That's nice, I guess, but for me, it's also related to the exquisite fit of his shorts, the cut of his arms, that single earring! ... but I digress. The sides glide apart, to reveal ... Two pair of reissued Air Jordan tennis shoes. Worth Kevin's allowance for the whole of his life, including his in utero period. But soft! What light through yonder tissue breaks? 'tis Air Jordan, and Retro Reissue is the sun! Jordan, backed by Jordan.
Ok. The shoe came out of the wrapping and went directly to the tip of Kevin's tongue. Mom's Cootie-Germ Alarm sounded shrilly. 'Uh, Kev, why are you licking the bottom of the shoe?' "To show it's FRESH, Mom." Back went the tongue. Hey -- I don't make the rules. I just document them. Designer 'fresh'. Are you with me on the 'fresh' page? Except for Kevin's lickey mark, we're looking at virgin Air Jordan shoe sole. Pair #2 is delicately revealed. They're mine! All mine!! 'Fresh' test, Pair #2.
The question remains: Provided my youngest male child eventually descends from Cloud 9, will the soles of these shoes ever be allowed to actually touch the earth? This is not [I repeat NOT!] a mere rhetorical or philosophical question for my male children. This question is second only to: which pair of jeans do I have to compliment the texture, the symmetry, the grace, the perfect lace-up of these Jordan's? Or will another shopping expedition be required to match their majesty? [Meanwhile, your photographer is asking herself if she will EVER be able to see those amber eyes without melting into puddles.] Giddy male child in an Air Jordan boa. Close-up of Pair #2 interior and laces. [Does that tag say Made in China? wowza. Michael, I'm shocked.] I was severely chastised for allowing a fingerpad to touch the suede. "MoooOOOOOOoooom!!!" Shoe tucked safely into tissue and out of Mom's reach. My youngest male child, in an Air-Jordan-Induced-Blissed-Out-Condition! [& Photographer Mom, in a giddy-amber-eyed-child-induced blissed-out-condition!] Zoe, draped on the back of my studio chair, contemplates. Waddya think, C-Poo? Hey, what the ... ?! Where'd she go? [No, we are absolutely NOT going to talk about the state of that table behind the chair.] Eesh! Blimey! Shite! We have a convert! Zoe's shopping Nike on-line for 2 pair of pawlet-sized Air Jordan's.