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when she sees me. “You again.” She does not look too happy to see me. That is not very polite.
    â€œYes, it is us again!” I say. “We are here to get some wonderful sparkly shoes. So please show me the shoes for flower girls.” Now I am old enough to know that there are shoes for brides and shoes for flower girls. I am not going to make that mistake again.
    â€œHere are the shoes for the flower girls,” the saleslady says. “Let me know if you need any help.” She is looking at us with a very nervous look on her face. I think she is scared we are going to cause a big scene.
    â€œThese are the ones!” I pick up the sparkly shoes. “I would like these in my size, please.”
    The saleslady asks the sizes of me and Cousin Angela. Then she goes to get those shoes.
    When she comes back, I slide my feet into those shoes right away. They are a little bit pinchy in the toes. But I do not care. They are very perfect. Better than Natalie Brice’s jewel crown even.
    I am looking at myself in these very wonderful little foot mirrors. I cannot get enough of it. “These shoes are the most beautiful shoes in the world,” I tell Cousin Angela. “Do you love them?”

    Cousin Angela is looking down at herself in those shoes. She is walking around. She is putting her hand on her hip. She is looking in the foot mirror. And then all of a sudden she is screaming.
    â€œTHESE SHOES ARE STUPID!”
    â€œCousin Angela,” I say real quick, trying to calm her down. “Just relax. See how nice and pretty these shoes are? They look like just the kind of shoes a flower girl would wear.”
    â€œI DON’T LIKE SPARKLES!”
    I gasp. That is impossible. Everyone loves sparkles. You cannot not love sparkles. This is not making any kind of sense in my head.
    Aunt Denise and my mom think this is the most hilarious thing they have ever seen in their lives. They are laughing their heads right off.
    â€œThis is not a laughing matter,” I tell them. “Please try to be mature about it.”
    But this makes them just laugh even harder.
    â€œHailey,” my mom says. “You and Cousin Angela have to pick a shoe that you both like.”
    â€œI don’t like these ones!” Cousin Angela says.
    And then Maybelle does something very bad. She swoops right down in front of Cousin Angela. And she points her wand at those sparkly shoes.
    â€œMaybelle,” I whisper. “What did you just do? I do not have time to clean up any more of your messes.”
    â€œThese shoes are tight on my feet,” Cousin Angela says. “I want them off this instant!” She plops herself right down on the floor of that store. And then she tries to take those shoes right off. She tugs. And she tugs. But those shoes will not come off.
    â€œLooks like we will have to buy them,” I say. “Since they will not come off your feet.”
    â€œGET THEM OFF MY FEET, MOMMY!”
    â€œI am sorry, but if you cannot keep your children quiet, you will have to leave this store,” the lady who works there says.
    â€œYes, I’m sorry, but we cannot stay quiet,” I say. “We are very loud and bad. Now we would like two pairs of these shoes, please. Wrap them up to go.” I point at those sparkle shoes. “And then we will be out of here. And not be causing a big scene anymore.”
    â€œOW, MY FEET, OW!” Cousin Angela is really having a bad screaming fit now. She is pounding her feet right on the ground.
    â€œCalm down, Angela,” Aunt Denise says. She is down trying to pull those shoes off Cousin Angela. But they will not come off. “What size are these shoes?” Aunt Denise is saying. “They are stuck on your foot.”
    I look at Maybelle. She is sitting in a big bride shoe that has a big fat bow on it. “Maybelle,” I whisper. “What did you do to that shoe?”

    â€œShe cannot get it off,”