The Art of Errands

When you become a mother, you do not realize how something so simple can turn into a half day event.

Boog and I had a few errands to run today. Actually just one. It took an hour and a half. We had to pick up parent shirts for baseball. This means we had to drive there. Park. Get out. Walk in. Tell them why we were there. And leave.

This is how it happened. We drove. I listened to Boog tell me how he wanted to watch the paint part of Curious George. Over and over. And over again. I had to explain to him that I can't work a dvd player in the back seat while Mommy is in the front seat. Driving. That wasn't the answer that he wanted to hear. Once we made it to the parking lot and parked we had to struggle with the flip flop that fell off his foot. Of course I couldn't do it. He had to do it. That was at least another four minutes. When I finally got him out he didn't want to hold my hand. He wanted to hold his own hand. So, now I'm pulling this kid through the parking lot...holding his own hand. We make it into the store to the register. I tell her what I need. I get it.

He sees Crocs. He wants them. He is in this weird girl phase of his life where he has to try on shoes. Everywhere. He doesn't try on my shoes at home but when we are in a place that has shoes...he is all over it. Telling me that they are too big for him. Uh, yeah, they are and son, I just don't think pink is your color.

He then decided that he didn't want shoes, he wanted to run around the store. Barefooted. I am so glad that we were the only ones in there and the employees didn't seem annoyed. Finally, we got to leave. Walking back to the car, dragging him back out...holding his own hand.