Thursday, September 13, 2012

Playground Karma

I can always count on Goodwill to be well-stocked with items that we absolutely do not need. For example, thanks to our trip to Goodwill yesterday, Jacob is now the proud owner of a pair of one-size too small Spiderman swimming trunks.  Not only is summer swimming season over, but he already has four pairs of swim trunks.  But Jacob absolutely HAD to have them. How could I pass up a $1.99 cry-free ride home?

The Spiderman swim trunks came on the second we got home. They did not come off. Period. Not for bedtime. Not for the next day. Not for bedtime tonight. We may have a problem on our hands.

The Goods:


Tonight, after work, I had the kids to myself. We went down to the neighborhood farmer's market at the nearby park. I had Ryan facing forward in the Baby Bjorn and Jacob was trailing along next to us on his Thomas the Tank Engine bike. He only ran over my toes three times.

We stopped at our favorite booth and ordered grilled corn on the cobb. I gave the lady my money and she handed me a paper bowl filled with perfectly-charred corn. It looked amazing. And it didn't hurt that every inch was dripping in hot butter. I took a couple bites before I sacrificed my snack to Jacob. He pecked at it like a bird. And when he was finished, it looked exactly like it had just lost a battle with pointy-beaked crow. Every other piece of corn was missing. I tried to finish Jake's scraps but each bite tasted like it had been marinating in slimy 4 year old slobber. Not appealing. We were about to leave when Ryan knocked the bowl out of my hands, sending butter dripping all over my hair. The smell of greasy butter infiltrated my every breath. My hair didn't feel so awesome either.

Before returning home, I let Jake play on the playground. There, we met Bossy Brat Child from Hell. She looked no older than 2 years old. But what she lacked in size, she made up for with her sparkling personality. She smacked Jacob and laughed. Then tried to push him down the slide. At one point she ran up to him and reached out to grab his water bottle out of his hands. Jacob held the bottle to his abdomen lay down on the playground bark and doubled over in a move I call the Potato Bug Defense. Brat Child got bored, gave up, and moved on to find another kid to steal from.

When Jake was assured that his water bottle was safe, we took Ryan out of the Baby Bjorn and helped him slide down the baby slide. He seemed unimpressed.....Until....Jacob decided to go with him. Jacob sat down on the slide beside Ryan, grabbed his tiny hand. and down they went. Ryan let out a long string of giggles.

As I was about to pick Ryan up off the slide, he let out a monstrous belch. Without warning, a geyser of spit-up frothed at his mouth before erupting all over the slide. I looked around for something to wipe it up with. I was just about to run for a napkin when, all of a sudden, Brat Child shoved a kid out of her way and toddled towards the slide. Before I could even gather a thought, she slid right down and landed in the puddle of curdled spit-up. She looked down at her pants in disgust.

Oh, Karma! Eventually, every shit-head gets what's coming to her.

So, what exacty did I do to deserve an evening full of buttery smelling hair? And, is that a punishment or a reward?

2 comments:

  1. It sounds like you had entirely too much slime in your day! Yuck!! (Hope next time is better!)

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  2. I'm glad I'm not the only one comfortable with calling other people's children shit-heads!

    ReplyDelete