Peanut Head went camping with the Boy Scouts Friday night so the girls and I decided that we needed a Girls' Night Out. We went out to eat at a chick food joint, then we went sho-hopping. Man, did we have fun. Well I had fun.
And okay, the girls didn't like Pier I Imports, but I got some more of these. I'm so happy because when I first saw them I bought every last one in the store and I would have liked more, so I was elated to see them again.
Now I have a set of 12, plus an extra set in case of breakage. Is that unlucky to have a set of 13? I hope not. I hate bad luck.
Anyway, I'm losing focus here. We went to Barnes & Noble, aka Heaven on Earth, and as we were walking through the parking lot I did my hand wiggle thing where I clutch my babies to me so I can hold their hands and keep them safe from danger and bad people.
And then this one, this baby that I carried in my womb, jumped away from me and refused to hold my hand. It seems that she thinks she's a Big Girl and doesn't need her Mama anymore. She's eight! Is she out of her mind?
I told her "Give me your hand this instant or I will give you a big, fat, hairy kiss! On your lips. Right here in public."
And do you know what she did?
She scoffed at me. Scoffed.
Hmph! It sort of made me reflect back to the time when she was two and her baby sister was just a few months old. We were traveling via plane to California, alone because Peanut Head was busy (working, whatever), and I was wrestling with the stroller and car seat while Stinkerbell was strapped to my torso in a front carrier and Zoe Bug was attached to me via leash.
That's right, I am that mom. The one who puts her kids on a leash.
And I don't even want to hear about what a horrible person I am. I have only this to say. Toddlers Run.
That's right. They run and they don't have the same obstacles that we have. They can run under whatever is in their way while you are forced to dodge about, hampered by your slow as molasses reflexes that don't get enough sleep, roundish body that doesn't seem to belong to you anymore, and take a guess who is going to win that race.
Hence the leash.
Now if you don't like leashes, you probably better just click on out of here right now and come back another day, because you are really not going to want to read about what happened with my toddler and her leash.
Go ahead, I'll wait until you're gone.
Okay then, reality is . . .
I have the baby in the front carrier, the toddler is on the leash, we're in the tunnel doo-dad that connects the airport to the plane and I have to put the car seat down and adjust my grip. We're right at the bend in the tunnel, and actually it's about a 90 degree bend, and the toddler starts to run away.
Not even thinking about it, I yank back on the leash and she slams face first into the tunnel wall that's right around the corner. Oopsie.
Did anyone see that?
Maybe that's why she won't hold my hand anymore. It's my fault.
I think I'll go make her a t-shirt that says "I Love My Mama!"
I've always wanted to buy a BeDazzler and I have a purpose for it now. Bwah-hah-hah-hah.