Last night, since 3B didn’t get up from his nap until after 5:30, we decided that we had enough time to run a few errands with him. So after he half-heartedly ate dinner, we decided to go to our local bike shop and Target.
I know, two errands in two hours with one two-year-old…what were we thinking?
The bike shop was easy. Too easy. 3B ran from the car all the way to the store and as we walked–well, as I walked and he ran ahead, pulling on my hand–along the display windows to the door, he was saying, “There’s the bike store. There are the bikes. I’m going to ride that one.”
Mama was behind us, saying, “Great. Now there’s two of you.”
Inside, he hopped right on that bike he saw in the window–a pink bike with a white basket and shiny tassels on the handlebars. He immediately learned the first lesson of bike selection: if the bike don’t fit, you must quit riding it. He hopped off that and settled in on a nice tricycle, with some encouragement from Mama. After that, it was off to the races while I tried to remember everything we came for and find it.
Did you know that an average width retail aisle is the perfect width for a tricycle to race down? Now you do, and so do we. As 3B did laps in his shiny pink racing helmet, with a brief break to ogle the repair shop and all the tools…mmm, tools…shiny, shiny tools…I scooped up what we needed and checked out.
Then we had to extract 3B from his personal head-in-the-honey-jar experience. Remember how I said it was too easy to get into the bike shop? There we were, without any bribes other than a trip to Target, which is not nearly as exciting as racing around a bike shop.
We tried moving in small steps. To extract him from the trike, I offered to let him ride on Lance’s bike–they had an Astana-colored Trek there. No dice. How about a ride on Levi’s bike? No dice. Perhaps I should have offered Bobby Julich, even though he doesn’t have a team bike anymore, but I thought Levi might work since 3B was alternating personalities between Levi and Bobby as he raced through the store.
What worked was offering to fly him on my shoulders past all of the mountain bikes on the upper rack. But that only got him off the trike, not actually onto my shoulders.
At that point, our guardian angel, in the form of a bike shop employee, rolled down the ramp from the repair shop to park a bike in the display rack and saved us by saying, “If you stay here any longer, we’re going to close the shop and you’ll be the only one here.”
With that, 3B was up on my shoulders and ready to fly out the door. All the way to Target, he sat in the backseat ringing his new pink bike bell and asking, “Where’s Target?” until we finally got there.
Target was easier, since we could restrain him in the shopping cart, and 3B helped out from his perch by reminding us as we rolled past the dog food that we were going to pick some up for Barky. I’m glad that one of our brains hasn’t been stolen by the baby. Mama did roll her eyes at me when I lifted him out of the cart to play a little aisle baseball, but c’mon, who can resist smacking a home run down an aisle at Target?
Apparently, not Mama’s boys.
Then it was a quick trip home with a sleepy boy who suddenly–of course–was full of energy as soon as we got home, even though it was already 9:00 when we walked through the door. Suffice it to say that we read stories, brushed teeth and sang songs as quickly as we could. Although he loves to sound out words with us because apparently he’s going to be able to read–read? wasn’t it last week that he couldn’t eat solid food?–we skipped over that part. We did introduce his fun new kid flosser though. Hey, at least one of us will floss.
We gave up on Barky; he kept swallowing the floss.
Then we got angry at our DVR which failed to record Dancing with the Stars just as it failed to record Castle last night. Somehow it always records everything on PBS, however. I think we may have a snooty DVR that thinks commercial channels are below it. Fortunately, we were able to reboot it in time to see the end of the show, but WTF? I mean, WTF? I like the cowboy and all, but WTF?
But by that time it was too late for Mama and I to wonder about much, especially since we hadn’t enjoyed a three-hour nap, so we went to bed.