"Bubba, you really need to toss those sneakers and wear your new ones," I said to my seven-year-old son. His old tennis shoes were a mess. There were holes in the bottom, the material on the top had peeled off, and the rubber tip was hanging by a thread.
"No! I love these shoes!"
"Dude, what are you going to do when you have to walk through puddles and snow?"
"Yeah," I said. "That wouldn't be much fun."
"I don't care. These are the best shoes I have."
"Bubba, you have a brand-spankin' new pair of shoes right here. Why don't you wear them?"
"Because I like these."
Ugh! I'll never win.