I have to tell some stories on my son. The last few days have been kinda funny with him around and I just want to share. Then it’ll be Monkey’s turn, just to be fair, because when you have two children, there’s a law somewhere that says what you do with/for one you must do with/for the other.
About three weeks ago or so, we brought home the Christmas tree. Naturally, the children loved it. And they played with it while we were still setting it up. Even the netting that the store wrapped the tree in became something of a toy for Little Man as he would wrap up his security blankets in it. While I was gone for pizza, though, something must have happened to The King because when I got back and we moved the tree to it’s permanent location, Little Man was distraught that The King was under the tree. He wasn’t. And he wasn’t in the trash, tangled up with the netting. The King was lost. As any parent can tell you, toys of this great importance must never be lost. But we couldn’t find the King.
Christmas came and went. Little Man got a small tractor from Grandma. Trey was playing with Little Man and “tipped” the tractor. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, go here. Anyway, watching Little Man later, he tipped the tractor all on his own, with McQueen or Mater doing the work and waiting the few seconds before sounding the “toot” at the end. Very cute. Little Man also scored big with Chick Hicks. This was the one thing he kept asking for and he got the green one and the Dinoco blue one. Not long after opening all his presents – the same day in fact – the green Chick Hicks got lost, too. Tragic, I tell you. I wasn’t as concerned about finding Chick. With all the toys and such scattered about the house with abandon, I knew Chick would show up.
The day after Christmas, I was determined to take down the tree. I took off the ornaments and boxed them up. I coiled up all the lights and put them away. I examined the tree to make sure there weren’t any ornaments left behind. Then I saw it. Along the bottom of the tree, tucked way back in the branches, was Chick Hicks. I took it back to Little Man and he giggled his cute little giggle. When I went back to the tree to finish checking the branches, there was The King. Tucked in just a little bit further and around the side. Now Little Man’s world was complete.
On Saturday, we had a beautiful, spring-like day. It’s been raining a lot lately, and while I know we need the rain, we also need sunny days to get the kids out and about. Well, we headed to a park with the puppy in tow. I figured he needed an outing, too. At the last minute, I decided to try out the dog park nearby. It was a great idea. Unless you take into account all the MUD! And all the dogs. Actually, it wasn’t so bad – the puppy loved it! – but within 5 minutes of being there, Little Man got tackled by another over-enthusiastic dog and got covered in mud. He didn’t like that much. Mud was all over his face, hands, in his hair. And he cried. I took him to the car and cleaned him up and settled him down. We went back in and watched Monkey play fetch with a sweet old mix named Bear. Little Man, of course, had to try. There were altercations, mistakes were made, feelings were hurt, then Little Man spotted another ball and made a dash for it. So did the same dog that tackled him before. As you can imagine, there was another collision. More mud. More tears. But he got over it a little more quickly this time. We stayed a while longer then headed home. Needless to say, we’ll take the pup back (he was good and tired) but it’ll be after some of the mud dries up.
Th-th-th-th-that’s all folks! I’ll be back later with more stories and random musings, but I have a long list of chores awaiting me and I must get to it.