Two men sit across the table from her, one older, one younger. Funny, how the younger one is fat and bald, while his senior is visibly fit with a healthy head of jet black hair.

“Ask her again Mr. Spires,” says the older man.

"Your name please?"

"My name is Emma Stone."

“Emma, tell me about the children.”

Emma’s gaze fixes on this Mr. Spires. He readjusts his fat bottom on the plastic chair, looking concerned when it groans in protest. The older man, Mr. Cage, taps an impatient finger on the cheap table top.

“Emma, please.” Mr. Cage insists.

Again with the children! How many times will they have her repeat this?

Emma begins, “I had my first child when I was fourteen. I married, and every other year until I was thirty five we had another. Eleven altogether. Then my sister died and left me her five, three of which were still in diapers. Two years after that my brother dumps his brood of four on my doorstep before being hauled off to prison on a list of charges as long as my arm. A week later one of my teenage boys brings home a baby. Then my eldest daughter, who’s still living at home and attending medical school, announces she’s pregnant. None of my older children have moved out, nor have immediate plans to. The house is filled with children, but that’s okay, we had space and time back then. Before Larry’s massive coronary. I always told him he should stop smoking.”

Emma pauses and picks at a stray hair on her chin.

“How old are you, Emma?” asks Mr. Fatman Spires.

“Thirty eight.”

Spires tries not to show his surprise and fails miserably. Emma looks at least seventy!

“Please go on,” Mr. Cage urges.

Now there was a man who would make fine looking babies. Black hair and blue eyes…

“I buried my husband, and very soon after that the money ran out. Oh, the life insurance policy was good, but with so many mouths to feed and bodies to clothe and diaper, it didn’t last long. We had to sell our home. The older children helped out with part time jobs, but it was never enough.”

“The new shoe we moved into was very small. There were bunk beds on top of bunk beds, three and four children to a bunk. It was a drafty, horrible shoe, cold and full of spiders. It had a nasty odor. And the walls were such poor leather. I could hear the neighbors right through them…always teasing, there was an old woman who lived in a shoe; she had so many children she didn’t know what to do. Such nasty people!

“I don’t remember when I started doing crack. I just recall needing it all the time. It was summer holiday and the kids were home, screaming for attention and bored with everything imaginable. The small shoe seemed even smaller. Food was scarce. I started stealing money from the older kids, because if I could have the crack things didn’t seem so bad.”

“But things started falling apart. The sole got thin. Laces frayed and broke down. Lights and heat were turned off. The next thing I know, I’m here. I’ve stopped the drugs; I’ve been clean for months now. Yet they still won’t let me see my children!” Emma sobs, and a single tear falls, separating into the deep wrinkles of her prematurely aged face.

Mr. Cage offers her a hankie from his pocket while Fatman Spires looks on.

“Why won’t they let Emma see her children if she’s clean now?” Spires asks Cage. “And what’s all this nonsense about living in a shoe? Why does she clutch that shoe? If I am going to take this case, I need some answers.”

Emma hears none of this. Cage shakes his head; leans in closer to Spires.

“Emma never puts that shoe down,” he says softly.

“Why is that?”

“It's the matching shoe to the murder weapon.”

“Murder weapon?

“Yes, Mr. Spires. You see, Emma used a shoe to beat to death each and every child in that house, even the grandbabies. The shoe itself is in evidence, but she just screams if she doesn’t have its mate. It’s the only way we can keep her calm and get her to talk.”

The spiked heel of the shoe Emma holds slams down on the table. “What are you whispering about? I’ve done what you asked, now can I see my children?"

Mr. Spires looks across the table at the old woman who is still young, who thinks she once lived in a shoe. The woman who had so many children she didn’t know what to do. Except kill them. Mr. Spires wasn’t expecting such an interesting case today…

(With a nod to Mother Goose and Dr. Seuss)

There was an old woman
Who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children
She didn't know what to do.

She gave them some broth
Without any bread.
She whipped them all soundly,
And sent them to bed

“Not fair” said John,
“I have a date.
You lost your temper
And now I am late.”

“Not fair. Not fair.
I’m the oldest of all.”
He flew into a rage and
Put his fist through the wall.

He yelled and he screamed
And stormed ‘round the place.
Yelling, “I hate you,”
‘Til quite red in the face.

Mother tried to ignore him
As he started to curse.
Then he woke up the baby
And things got much worse.

For the baby had colic
And constantly cried,
Unless he was held
Right at Mother’s side.

Mother picked up
The unhappy tot,
And wiped his wet face,
All covered in snot.

Then Sally called out
From her crib decked in pink,
“Mama, Mama,
Me need a drink.”

Sally, dear Sally,
Just barely two,
Was solidly terrible
In the old woman’s shoe.

She tantrummed all day
And tantrummed all night.
She kicked and she screamed
And, oh my, could she bite.

Mother got her some water
With the baby in tow.
But Sally just threw it
Yelling, “No, no no no.”

“The water is Yucky.
I want ice cream.
I want my Teddy.
I had a bad dream.”

John and his tirade;
Baby’s horrible din;
Sally still screaming;
Now Jill joined right in.

Moody and cranky
and quite prone to whine,
One moment hysterical,
The next moment fine.

Her nose had a ring,
Her body tattooed,
But what stood out most
Was her bad attitude.

“I thought that you sent us
all straight to bed.
You love them all more
Than you love me,” she said.

“You hate me, you hate me.”
She burst into tears.
“You’ve hated me
For the past thirteen years.”

“Stop crying,” said John.
Jill continued to weep,
“You’ve ruined my life.
You dumb stupid creep.”

Jill ran and she hit him
With all of her might.
They scuffled and tussled;
Another big fight.

The baby, he fussed.
Sally, she howled.
Rover joined in
As he barked and he growled.

Then little Eddie
Jumped on the bed.
He jumped and he jumped
Til his mother saw red.

Ten year old Eddie
Had an identical brother.
You couldn’t tell one
At all from the other.

The identical brothers
Were really quite wild;
Each by himself
Was a difficult child.

But put together
Little Eddie and Lane
Could take just seconds
To drive you insane.

There was an old woman
Who lived in a shoe.
She had a passel of brats,
But she knew what to do

She went to the cupboard
And got out her pills.
A few tranquilizers
Would cure all her ills.

She swallowed a blue,
And she swallowed a red.
She went to her room
And got straight in bed.

Her last thought that night
Was that the world was too cruel.
It was five more weeks
‘til the kids went back to school.

Shoe on Wheels

Our Road Trip Blog

“Skating across the US in an R.V. (Reebok Vehicle) !”

DAY 1
We begin our adventure over summer break to see the country(and all the children’s fathers.)
DAY 7- Under the Big Top
Tommy saw his father tonight. We all got front row seats, and we all still smell like the elephants! Poor Tommy , wants to be just like that sorry man! Tonight at dinner, I caught him trying to swallow his butter knife!
DAY 12 - Middle of Nowhere
Little Billy was only afforded an hour with his dad, on account of the rodeo pulling out the same day we arrived. Billy won’t take off the red nose his dad gave him as a token.
DAY 15 - Maybe it was Memphis
I haven’t been able to cheer Priscilla up since she learned her dad had left for Vegas 2 weeks ago with the other ELVES as she calls them. She’s only 3, and still thinks he is one of Santa’s helpers and not the hound dog I know him to be.
DAY 22- Who salted my lake?
Mary and Sherri saw their father (and his new wives) yesterday. Things did not go well when he proposed letting the girls stay with him, and “join the family”.
DAY 28-
We caught up with Franky Sr outside Trenton . One day of spent with him and Franky is all of a sudden calling me Muddah and referring to us as The Family
DAY 32-
We laced the CrossTrainer down and set up camp in a skate park on the outskirts of Orlando, FL . It has been a 4 day trek from New Jersey and everyone is a bit stir crazy.
Tomorrow we see Felicia’s dad and then the rest of the trip is going to be nothing but FunFunFun!
DAY 33-
That was awkward to say the least. At 12 , Felicia’s beginning to realize there is something not quite right with her dad looking so old. So far, she hasn’t forced me to tell the story---but those stares she‘s been giving me!
The children are all going swimming at the lake and that nice park manager is bringing a picnic.
Tomorrow we go to Disney!

DAY 35
Burl is SUCH a NICE man! Wouldn’t you know that he bought all of our tickets into Disney World? I didn’t think a park manager would make enough to do such a thing, but it sure is a nice gesture.
DAY 40
Well the old shoe’s laced back to it’s tree underneath the Atlanta sky. Not a moment too soon. I swear that I have the most ungrateful children on earth. I take them all to see their fathers and the thanks I get is a bunch of brats . I swear they are just resentful that I had fun too. You should have seen the way they treated that nice Burl at SeaWorld-- and he bought their tickets!
School cannot start back soon enough--- 25 more days- counting Saturday and Sunday of butter knife patrol, loud rodeos blaring over the television set ( in hopes they’ll show the clown), stories of the North Pole, lessons on the Mormon Church as well as organized crime and those terribly awkward stares from Felicia.
DAY 50
If I hear “Youse talkin’ tuh me, muddah?” one more time I think I’ll scream! Or Jingle Bells and I’m not sure where Billy found the barrel but if he’s late for supper one more time, there’ll be no bread with his broth.
Oh, and seems we made friends on our trip because when I went out to get the mail, right there on top of the hospital bill for Tommy’s emergency procedure was a postcard from Burl! Says he was just wondering how we were…

DAY 57
Tonight I spanked them ALL soundly and sent them to bed! I know they are just kids, but I have been feeling so poorly the last couple of days, I couldn‘t bear the noise and all the swinging from the laces today. I haven’t been able to sleep much and just this morning I was sick to my stomach something fierce. Oh school bus, do come soon!
DAY 65
Prisy and I waved the school bus out of sight-- ah! 6 hours of peace ( if you don’t count Prissy’s constant rendition of Jingle Bells) I can lie on the sofa without interruption until this nausea wears off… and then, I think I’ll write Burl back--- I have some news for him.
~~~

A BIGGER BOOT

My new blog dedicated to our new home and expanding family

DAY 1
Burl is thinking of moving here. Little Merle is due any day now and the Boot is almost finished…..

There was an old woman
Who lived in a shoe
She had so many children
She didn’t know what to do

So she announced one day
In the middle of June
That the whole mangy brood
Was off to the moon!

Billy and Willy
And Tilly and Maude
Robert and Bob
And Lindsay and Todd

Larry and Manny
And Moe and Jack
All jumped in the Chrysler
The twins in the back

The mercury soared
To one hundred and nine
When the AC gave out
A very bad sign

Bob, Tilly, and Maude
Fought over the Game Boy
But when it flew into pieces
They all played it coy

The old woman shouted
“Don’t make me stop
Or no dinner for you
No Denny’s, Arby’s, IHOP”

“I gotta go pee”
Lindsay said with a moan
“You should done that
Before we left home!”

The old woman reached
Into her bag of tricks
And pulled out the Snickers
And the Pixy Stix

The joy in the car
Was beyond all belief
But it would be all to short
This moment of relief

The twins facing backwards
Shook and turned pale
“I’m gonna throw up!”
They said with a wail

“Oh heavens to Betsy”
The old woman cried
And swerved to the shoulder
And threw them outside

But the alarm, it was false
And nothing came up
But just in case
She gave each one a cup

“Now back in the car”
She said with resign
“But we can’t face the back
All of the time!”

“Shotgun is mine!”
Bob said with a shout
“No more middle for me”
Tilly started to pout

“Back in the car
Before I count five
Or I’ll leave you behind
And that ain’t no jive!”

“Five!” Tilly jumped
Through the front door
“Four!” Willy threw
The twins on the floor

“Three, two and one”
The old woman called
And they all piled in
Except Manny, who bawled

“I don’t wanna go
This June to the moon!
Take me back home,
Back to my room!

The old woman grabbed
His ear in Death’s grip
And said, “You ARE coming
Along on this trip”

“The next one who makes
So much as a peep
Will have no supper
Before they sleep”

The station wagon pulled
Back on to the road
And however briefly,
Silence took hold

She drove eighty-five
To make up for lost time
Till the Highway Patrol
Flashed her a sign

She pulled to the side
And slowed to a stop
And shushed all the kids
“Quiet, it’s a cop!”

The officer approached
With slow measured paces
Noting with horror
The sea of sad faces

“Lady I should give you
A stiff, hefty fine
But I’ll let you off
A warning this time

“But keep it below
Sixty-five if you may
And I don’t see how you can,
But have a nice day”

They turned left at Peoria
And right at St. Paul
And stopped for the night
At Wichita Falls

The motel had a pool
That was dry as a bone
With sandpaper towels
And a broken old phone

The bedbugs were biting
All through the night
And the scum in the shower
Was a terrible sight

Five kids to a bed
And two in the hall
While the old woman slept
Not one wink at all

The next morning dawned
With promise anew
“We’ll be at the moon
By a quarter past two!”

The Chrysler it sputtered
How it did knock and ping
So to drown out the noise
They all started to sing

“Ninety-nine bottles
Of beer on the wall”
Ninety-eight verses more
They went through them all

The caution sign said,
“Bump up ahead”
So the old woman gassed it
The kids trembled with dread

The speedometer read
One twenty at least
When they hit that bump
And gravity ceased
To hold them to earth
They were released!

The earth’s surly bonds
They slipped with a cry
Higher and higher
That wagon did fly

Up through the clouds
It went with a roar
Troposphere, stratosphere
Mesosphere, more!

“Roll up your windows”
The old woman admonished
While the kids looked out
Amazed and astonished

Out into space
The old wagon flew
The earth it receded
While the moon grew and grew

The Chrysler soft landed
In a cloud of moon dust
The old woman was beaming
But the kids started to fuss

“I’m hungry.” I’m thirsty.”
“I want to go home.”
“I have no reception
On my new cell phone”

So the old woman slammed
That car in reverse
And under her breath
Let out a curse

“Never again will we
Try such a trip”
As the car spiralled down
Once more in eaarth’s grip

And so back home
To their shoe they did drive
All the kids sleeping peaceefully
Looking scarcely alive

There was an old woman
Who lived in a shoe
She had so many children
She didn’t know what to do

But never again
After that day
Did they pile in the car
And drive away

Though the old woman was chastised by her neighbors for starving and beating her plethora of children, in the end they all grew up to be fine young adults.

For her seventy-fifth birthday, her sons Thom McCann and Birkenstock got the whole family to pitch in for a week in the Hamptons as a gift for Mom. It was years since they’d been together as a family for a summer break. With the whole clan gathered, paired off with spouses, significant others and their offspring, they needed more space than ever. With all the children pooling their money, they could afford for the best. Buster Brown, the youngest boy, knew a guy who knew a guy and found the perfect rental – a beautiful pair of Dolce & Gabbana ivory lace sling backs right on the dunes near Montauk. The left shoe was the main dwelling and the right, guest quarters.

The owners of the property, Sarah Jessica Parker and Mathew Broderick, had it beautifully appointed, filled with all manner of fabulous art and photographs. The lace walls let the ocean breezes pass through and there was an elevator in the stiletto heel going up to magnificent open heel decks. They spent almost every evening up there barbequing on both decks.

Stringing up the volleyball net was Prada’s idea, little devil that she was. Reebok had always been the family athlete, so it surprised no one to find her and Adidas, her fraternal twin, devising an intricate system of shoelaces and long handled shoehorns to get that net perfectly between the two heel decks.

The first game was a killer. Sling backs being what they are, there were no ledges around the edge of the deck, just a thin floating banister. This made diving to save a spike from the other team, as well as going for those ‘hit first, ask questions later’ shots critical. It was fortunate, well, as fortunate as these things can be, that it was little Converse who took the first dive, throwing down to save a vicious spike by Manolo.

Manolo was the first openly gay member of the family, having come out of the closet during a “Sex in the City” marathon on HBO. He was a fitness buff, his biggest passion being beach volleyball. He was famous for his spike, a fast curving downward strike that seemed to defy the laws of physics in its vicious beauty. Converse threw down, tongue dragging, and made the save but in his effort, he slid right off the edge of the heel and fell forty feet to the courtyard below. But Converse was a hardy bloke, used to the rough treatment of the streets. He got back up, straightened his laces and hopped in the elevator to come on back up.

Now the strategy of the game became much more interesting. Offense was off the map, the main object being to hit the ball as close to the boundaries of the allotted play area and defense became a matter of or death. The next one over the edge might not bounce back like plucky little Converse. What if Capezio slipped off? She could be shattered.

Enthusiasm and Kiwi Cosmos being what they are, it wasn’t long before things were back in high swing. Frye, a huge brute of a man, was serving for the Left. He hauled off and let loose with a huge overhand bomb that whizzed over the heads and fingertips of the Right team. Nike was playing in the back for Right and she got the height to go for it, but the serve was so powerful and Nike was a lightweight, she connected with that ball and it blasted her right off the back edge and down, landing in the driveway.

Silence fell over the family on both sides. The family dog, Hush Puppy whined up a long baritone crescendo into wailing howls of mournful magnificence. Dr. Scholl and Dr. Martens grabbed their gear and rushed down to her. The rest of the family got downstairs as soon as they could. Since she hit, Nike hadn’t moved, her laces in disarray on the asphalt, tongue twisted and dark. Candies and Bandolino were crying hysterically, wedged in each other’s arms.

Dansko called 911 and the vacation was pretty much over after that. They all felt terribly guilty, they knew it could happen after Converse’s bounce with disaster. But they took it in stride, right? Nike had a vibrant sole. She had been about living life to its fullest, 'Just Do It'. Like she always said ”You can’t just sit around, waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

I’m in the kitchen making sandwiches for lunch when the stray toy hurtles through the door and hits me in the back of the head. And this is about the time when I really start to lose it.
“Bradley …get your behind in here now!” I scream wildly, my face turning a bright shade of red.
“What ?” Bradley slouches into the kitchen looking guilty. His big brown eyes are looking at me imploringly.
“What are you doing in there? That toy hit me in the head!”
“We wanted to see what could fly better ..the Millennium Falcon or Buzz Lightyear…sorry Mum.” He gives me the beseeching look again. But it’s not going to work this time.
“Right no more playstation for the rest of the week for any of you. And and…no pools either!”
And as the words leave my mouth I realise what a mistake I’ve made.

I want to take back the words instantly. Because without the playstation or the safety of the swimming pools I am at their mercy. But my husband and I have agreed that when we say something we stick with it. The importance of consistency and not backing down, as the books tell us. So for the next week I am stuck with four kids in a house where they are not allowed to do the one thing that keeps them quiet for longer than 30 minutes. This is worsened by the fact that it is summer vacation and it is only the beginning of January. The whole month looms over me dark, ominous and threatening, despite the too bright sunshine and dazzling blue skies.

The week starts off bad and escalates. I find my daughter Serena, the youngest, having a fashion parade in my best clothing. She has smeared lipstick onto my favourite shirt and broken off one of my stiletto heels on my best shoes. I see red and confine her to her room for the rest of the day, where her moans of “Mum I’m bored!” echo throughout the house.

Of course on a week when I have banned the kids going to the public pools the temperature hits a high 39 degrees celcius early on and shows no signs of abating. And then of course…the air conditioning breaks. So we sit in the living room under the sluggish fan, fanning ourselves with junk mail and catalogues. Sweat drips down our faces and the kid’s whines become so insistent that they almost sound like a swarm of bees. But I cannot give in.

When I feel I’m about to pass out from heat exhaustion and have broken up more fights than a boxing referee I take the kids to the movies. At least they are air conditioned. The inevitable fight breaks out over which movie to watch. The three boys want to see a shoot ‘em up type movie. My daughter is begging to see the latest Hilary Duff installment. So, in some haze of insanity, I agree to let the three boys aged between nine and 13 see that movie on their own while Serena and I go see the Princess movie.

“Both movies finish pretty much at the same time so just wait for us out here,” I tell the boys. So armed with cokes, popcorn and enough junk to last them through a nuclear war they head off with cheeky grins.

About halfway through the movie the film suddenly stops and the lights come on. I hear my name being paged. I grab Serena fearing the worst, maybe one of my boys has been kidnapped. No such luck. The boys have been kicked out of the cinema for having food fights and causing general mayhem.

After my tirade the boys are quiet in the car on the way home. The next few days pass in a haze of whines, fights, a few minor explosions and a mishap with a hammer and someone’s thumb. Towards the end of the week I decide I need to do something before I lose my mind. So I book the kids into a camp.

They whine a little at first but when I promise them canoeing, swimming, horseriding and other fun outdoor pursuits they slowly come around to the idea. I hug and kiss them all goodbye and watch them hesitantly walk into the main lodge as I drive away in the air conditioned car. I smile as I drive out past the gate and the sign that my kids missed because I distracted them with a dead kangaroo on the side of the road.

‘Steve’s Military Camp.’ Then in smaller italics ‘Bring ‘em in broken we fix ‘em up!’

Needless to say my husband and I went on a two week trip to Fiji. It was fantastic. And the kids …did they come home fixed?
Well not really but at least by then it was almost time for school to go back.