when I started typing this morning. This morning I was jotting down a little ditty about my latest submersion into Mockingbird, and its resulting effect on my life and my perspective, ad naseum... Then, as usual, I was planning on breaking into all the would-be-horrible-if I-hadn't evolved so much n the past week events that came along to destroy my Rose-colored glasses reality, including 3, yes 3 video clips supporting my claims.
It's 8 hours later and I still only have one video uploaded, so I'm scratching the whole thing. You people really missed out.
But don't sweat it, I have another (NEWER!FRESHer!) story now, one that picks up quite nicely where the previous one stalled out.
You see, in my almost-post, the moral of the story is not to let Jax ride independently on any kind of vehicle (motorized or not) during our walks to pick up Ryan from school.
This moral makes perefct sense until you realize that Jax is no longer a fan of riding in a stroller, and Ryan is now a HUGE fan of riding her bike.
So you see my problem.
I thought I'd be clever today, though, and suggested I drive to pick up Ry from school in exchange for playing at the nearby park after school, rather than riding our bike. Since a playdate with her new best friend was involved, she readily agreed.
I packed my whole big bag full of snacks and wipes and diapers and drinks, and we were ready to go.
Pick up was a breeze (if you don't count the bee who would not leave us alone), and soon Jax, Ry and her friend ran off to the park, and my new mommy friend and I chatted as we followed. It really was lovely.
Until she looked up and uttered those 3 words that send my heart into my throat, "Where is Jax?"
In the 30 yards it took to walk from the school to the park, I'd lost Jax. Little Big Man was nowhere to be found, amidst a crowd of running, screaming kids, cars cruising by, and disapproving mothers looking on disapprovingly, I walked/ran back to the last place I saw him and dispatched Ry and her friend to go the other direction
Sure enough, there he was, not 20 feet from where we started, standing next to 2 little girls in the middle of the soccer field holding a tennis ball he'd found, a big huge pee stain all down the front of his shorts.
"I think he wet himself," said one of the girls. "He was just standing here, wandering around."
I thanked the girls, hugged Jax, called off the search, and hoisted him up onto my hip, soaking the entire left side of my shirt in his urine.
And I was happy to do it.