Cleats of Destruction

Wednesday night Grant had a friend sleep over. This is the middle boy of our best friends and what a character he is! Sam is always up to something and it usually involves his great imagination or bargaining for Grant's toys....he is a dealer much like his father.

So here I come home from church and as I was walking up the stairs they were there to greet me. These two boys have a great time together and Ally and I were happy to have Sam over.....until.....I caught something out of the corner of my eye. What were those things on his feet? The noise was a piercing yet familiar one that took me back to my little league days. "Surely not" I thought....but as I focused I saw something I hadn't seen since the late 70's, early 80's! CLEATS on hardwood floors!!! Immediately my blood pressure spiked because I could see the hardwood floors being torn to shreds underneath his feet. Pieces flying everywhere exposing down to the sub-floor....ahhhh, the horror!

From everything I was taught back in the day, cleats were the death of hardwood floors. I can still see Hyatt's (my brother) cleats lined up on the hearth next to mine where we were to take them off. Even the steps from the front door to that hearth were to be executed in stealth mode as not to leave the slightest mark. And what if they were muddy from our field of dreams at the Jewish Community Center (baseball) or Boys Industrial School (soccer)? They were excommunicated to the garage or left outside the basement door. I will never forget the day my brother was stored in the trunk of my dad's car on the way home from a game because his cleats were filthy! Does it get any better than that? I think not!! We have laughed about that around the dinner table for some 25 years now.

So what was I to do with little Sammy? I took the road less traveled.

"Hey Sam, what are you wearing on your feet?" (I'm still processing here)

"My soccer cleats"

"Why you wearing those, bud?"

"Because so I can run real fast and race."

Makes perfect sense to me....and I dropped it.

Don't get me wrong. You will never see Grant in our house with cleats because I do believe there are family traditions that should be passed down from generation to generation. And if I ever have the chance to put Grant in the trunk, I won't hesitate....for his sake and the sake dinner conversations to come.