My mother told me a story one time, about one of her younger cousins and his epic interaction with a bunch of cheap flip-flops/sandals.

He was somewhere between the age when his incisors had grown in, but not yet old enough to speak…or, well, to not be immensely fucking stupid. A bunch of people in the extended family were visiting his family’s house, and they had all left their flip-flops in the front room. These were the oldschool foam-rubber type of flip-flop sandals. The ones that were just a brightly-colored, entirely flat foam-rubber, foot-shaped sole, and a little plastic piece to hold it onto your foot. Everyone in the family apparently had a different color of shoes.

When everyone was preparing to leave the house, they found that EVERY PAIR OF SHOES had a toddler’s-mouth-sized bite taken out of it. Just one per pair. This little shit had tried every “flavor” of shoe, and apparently didn’t figure out they were all rubber-and-foot flavored until he’d tried all of them.

If I remember correctly, he had sampled at least eight or ten people’s shoes.