A quick evening stroll

It’s time to make some changes around here.

All the leisure activities can’t be ONLY about the kids. There needs to be a little room for us to get some exercise too. So we decided to forgo the usual “playing outside after dinner” bit tonight and go for a simple stroll around the block.

In less than thirty seconds, my son was already sitting on the grass pouting about this cruel and unusual punishment. I assured him it would take no more than ten minutes, and we’d be home before he knew it. He assured me that he will go, but he will continue to cry the whole way.

Fine. Be that way. We’re still going.

We spent the first half of the walk explaining why grown-ups bodies need to get exercise too. I didn’t get into the whole “you called me fat, so you can come for a damn walk with me you little brat” reason.

So we get to the midway point, and my precious potty-training-two-year-old declares that she has to go pee.

Of course.

On our ten minute walk, of course you have to go pee. Because going right before we left the house didn’t quite cut it.

Fortunately we learned the bush squat technique last weekend, so we found a nice bush away from anyone’s houses, in a nice secluded spot. Perfect. A big bush, and plenty of privacy.

I kid you not, the moment her panties were down, a running group of about two dozen men and women came jogging by.

Over twenty people on an normally deserted street. What are the odds.

Probably as good as her dropping her “crown” (a headband she’s been wearing as a crown all evening) right into the puddle she just made in the dirt next to the bush.

Great.

Nope, you can’t hold it. It’s okay, mommy will hold it. We need to wash it. (Really, there’s nothing mommy wants more than to carry your pee-soaked headband all the way home.)

Well, we continued on, and got down to the home stretch. Only to have the necessary trip-over-absolutely-nothing-skinning-of-the-knees to conclude our evening stroll.

So I carried the little one home, as she cried “I need an Angry Bird Band-aid” the whole way.

Can’t say it got my heart rate up at all, but at least we were able to provide the local running club with a mid-run chuckle.

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About i wonder what she's thinking

I'm a smart ass. Most of my smart ass comments are internal dialogue, but approaching my 30's, I'm feeling a need to unload so I can rescue my mommy brain from being buried in the mess of crazy thoughts.

Posted on September 25, 2012, in mommy blog and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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