I slip my feet into a new pair of Nike sneakers and try to get a feel for what they look like. My feet should be a size ten and a half. “These are nice, but not what I'm looking for.” My mom says, “Okay, let's try these.” They're great, right? You guys like these, right?" He hands me a pair of archless Adidas Sambas. Still a size ten and a half. I take off the other shoes and grab the edges of the shoes as I try to slip them on. The shoes slide on with a strange sense of ease “They're really too big. I can't walk without my heel popping out. Mom says, 'He says they're a ten and a half.' 'Well, they sure don't feel like it.' He holds out a pair of painfully tight black and white Pumas, then at my mother, then back at the pair of shoes. I can almost feel the agonizing squeeze of the tight, leather/fabric-laden shoes, just by looking at them the process of putting on the shoes. I couldn't get them on. No matter which way I pulled or pulled, I couldn't get them to slide on my wide feet...