Scene: Harleigh walks out into the living room after a nap to see my bestie and I with plain white bowls full of chocolate chip cookie dough blue bell ice cream and a spoon with gracious amounts of said ice cream shoved into our mouths. I see this minature version of my best friend and I look over and see her wide eyed.
She says with a whisper, "We've been caught. Don't make any sudden movements." I continue to to stare at her as not to make eye contact with the three year old and say the first thing that comes to mind, "Mmmm this soup is so good." The bestie follows suit and we convince this little person with a stomach ache that we are indeed crazy adults eating soup.
Sundays are supposed to be a day of rest according to some religions. Sunday around these parts however, are anything but restful. We start our day getting in some Jesus time (Charcher is what the 3 year old calls it) at 10:30 am. The bestie and I grow spiritually while we get a break from the monsters that most people call toddlers. After picking them up from the animal themed kids area, we were disappointed to find that mom and dad weren't going to take the girls shoe shopping like they had previously stated they would the day before. Damn it. That was going to be my nap time.
We headed to the Louisiana Boardwalk as a first stop because it was a beautiful 80 degree day equipped with blue skies, animal shaped clouds and sunshine for miles. We went to one store to find disappointment, but that was no problem because there was a Rack Room Shoes across the trolly track. The monsters, still tame,and cooperative, to tried on several pair of shoes. Divas. We went through shoes with sparkles, shoes with animal print, and shoes that lit up. When we found the perfect pair of shoes that fit one sister, they didn't have a size for the other.
Hopeful, I told the bestie that we would just go to the other Rack Room in Shreveport to get the girls their matching sparkly, leopard, light up sneaks. On the way out, Harleigh insisted that we stop and look at the Red River. She searched for mermaids in the what should have been named the Brown River freely flowing before buildings filled with gamblers, lights, and slot machines. I informed her of the alligators that would potentially eat her which resided in the murky waters because, as an Aunt, I am allowed to instill fear in my nieces.
When we got to store number 3 we must have needed another nap. Scarlett refused to walk dropping to her knees in the middle of the parking lot attached by an arm to her mother. "Oh God", I thought, "here we go."Almost dragging her daughter to the sidewalk, the bestie finally let go of her youngest daughters hand. Harleigh and I started to walk in when we noticed the blonde hair, blue eyed, two year old acting as if she just witnessed a murder screaming on the side walk because she wanted to be held. We all walked away, and the princess came running...and screaming.
You should have seen the stares, like we were unfit care givers. Fuck them. I have no sympathy for a child with capable legs for walking, WALKING. A child throwing a fit is no grounds for adults to gasp and gawk at the other adults that are involved with that child. Turn around, mind your business, and let us tend to ours...noisely.
After the embarassing melt down, this child and her sister decided to try on every shoe in sight, spill an egg full of freaking rice, and try to kill each other. I was over it. Exhausted and fed up I started to do what I don't believe in doing to children...yell. "Harleigh Stop! Don't make me tell you again! Scarlett sit your butt down! Y'all don't move! Why are you doing that?! I said Stop it!" Angrily trying to catch a breath, a worker walks by and asks if I need help. Ummm yes. I need you to put all these shoes back to their rightful homes and I am sorry, but as much as I feel your pain, I want you to take mine away right now with this knife. Remember slit vertically.
Leaving with not a single pair of shoes, we stop at one final store. To Harleigh's dismay, the children were bound to buggies (baskets or carts for you non-southerners) because I, as well as their mother, refused to chase a child with unmatched shoes. I couldn't actually believe it was time to go when we actually found shoes because Hell seemed to be endless. Arriving home, kicking off my shoes, and sitting my ass on the couch was the best thing since red wine. I was completely over the day. Ready for an adult beverage.
Shopping used to be a happy past time. Grocery shopping is much simpler and involves less effort. We walk into Brookshires and Harleigh immediately has to get her own minature version of the adult buggy. I fill her basket with colorful fruits and veggies while her mother fills the adult sized buggy with the rest of the food we craved. Going up and down aisles checking things off the list I say to the three year old terror, "Come on Dr. Harleigh." (She has been calling me Aunt Dr. Diamond since I graduated and is convinced that she will be a doctor too.) Without skipping a beat and utter joy beaming out of her pretty brown eyes, she says, "Thank you for calling me Dr. Harleigh, Dr. Diamond!" Of course she was more than welcome and not 2 minutes later I almost needed a doctor after Scarlett knocked over a jar of pickled something while sitting in her buggy. Sigh. Her we go again.
We headed to the Louisiana Boardwalk as a first stop because it was a beautiful 80 degree day equipped with blue skies, animal shaped clouds and sunshine for miles. We went to one store to find disappointment, but that was no problem because there was a Rack Room Shoes across the trolly track. The monsters, still tame,and cooperative, to tried on several pair of shoes. Divas. We went through shoes with sparkles, shoes with animal print, and shoes that lit up. When we found the perfect pair of shoes that fit one sister, they didn't have a size for the other.
Hopeful, I told the bestie that we would just go to the other Rack Room in Shreveport to get the girls their matching sparkly, leopard, light up sneaks. On the way out, Harleigh insisted that we stop and look at the Red River. She searched for mermaids in the what should have been named the Brown River freely flowing before buildings filled with gamblers, lights, and slot machines. I informed her of the alligators that would potentially eat her which resided in the murky waters because, as an Aunt, I am allowed to instill fear in my nieces.
You should have seen the stares, like we were unfit care givers. Fuck them. I have no sympathy for a child with capable legs for walking, WALKING. A child throwing a fit is no grounds for adults to gasp and gawk at the other adults that are involved with that child. Turn around, mind your business, and let us tend to ours...noisely.
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| Some days are like this... |
BUT
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| MOST days are like this... |
Leaving with not a single pair of shoes, we stop at one final store. To Harleigh's dismay, the children were bound to buggies (baskets or carts for you non-southerners) because I, as well as their mother, refused to chase a child with unmatched shoes. I couldn't actually believe it was time to go when we actually found shoes because Hell seemed to be endless. Arriving home, kicking off my shoes, and sitting my ass on the couch was the best thing since red wine. I was completely over the day. Ready for an adult beverage.
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| Sister needed the tears adjusted out of her |
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