Grandma Shoes

When I was very little,
The grandmas 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 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 became a Mom,
Our kids grew up and left
And then 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 really think they're neat