By the age of four, my son insisted on dressing himself. Not only did he want his clothing to be color-coordinated, but he had to button every button on the front of his shirt, and he had to have his socks pulled up, even though he might be wearing pants.
The only difficulty he experienced was putting on shoes. He always had them on the wrong foot.
“Your shoes are on the wrong feet,” I said once.
He looked down at them, studying the situation, then looked at me and in dead earnest said, “But they’re the only feet I have.”