I was lulled into a false sense of security. I believed my boys would sustain normal, public behavior at length. Ha! I had a total of three errands to run with them before Full Speed’s flag football game. Not ideal to do so much at once, but sometimes, that’s just how the cards fall. The first errand went beautifully. Glasses were adjusted and manners were used. At the next stop, that’s when it began to go off the rails.
It started with Full Speed cracking a joke. Now don’t get me wrong, I love jokes. I love humor. It makes life bearable and often times, really, really fun. We were at a sporting goods store when he picked up a tiny, flowery pink pair of baby girl sport-sandals and said, “Mom, I think these would be a great gift for Dad for his birthday.” I chuckled and joined in. We were there to purchase some Under Armour for T.Puzzle. I picked up a neon-pink, leopard-printed pair of pants and said, “Hey, T.Puzzle, these are perfect for football.” This was my fatal mistake. They took Mom cracking a joke to mean that they could run wild.
First, it started with wrestling which then turned into a heated foot race which then led to them picking up teeny, tiny lavender one-pound weights and declaring, “These are the heaviest weights ever!”, as they pumped them furiously up and down.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry so I did a little of both. The sales kid, oh, how he judged me! By this time he was helping us size shoes and the boys were continuing their spectacular display of silliness. I said, “Makes you want to have lots of kids, doesn’t it?”
Not wanting to lose the sale, the sales kid said nothing and sheepishly smiled.
When we returned to the car I had to give the boys my ‘you-better-hold-it-together-at-the-pediatrician’s-or-you-will-regret-it-dearly’ speech. It worked. We got through Full Speed’s ten-year wellness check virtually unscathed.
When do I get to run errands and not have to make threatening speeches? Does it ever happen? Or, will I always have to scare these boys straight?
Guess I better go back to the store and get some teeny, tiny lavender one-pound weights to build up my endurance because clearly, I am not there yet.