HE IS THREE AND ALWAYS IN TROUBLE. (Please notice the Hello Kitty shoe box.)
We struggled through school this morning. Times tables and spelling words are just a struggle.
After lunch, I thought we could go to the library, so I announced it during lunch and the mood definitely improved. “As soon as the dishes are done, we can leave.” I said.
On the way I realized I needed some boxes so I stopped to ask at The Dollar Store. They motioned me to their dumpster out back. We drove behind the store and Baseball Boy and I tried standing on the back bumper to look for cardboard boxes. We found several, but there was a prize one just out of reach. I told Baseball Boy to climb in and get it for me. He was horrified, but this was not a trash dumpster, but a Cardboard Only dumpster, so he climbed in and grabbed the prize box. It was at this moment that one of the kiddos inside the car decided to hit the “Trunk Open” button which knocked me off my perch on the back bumper. It was also at this moment that Little Man (just turned three) decided to get out of the car. It was at this moment that I realized that he was wearing his sister’s (Eloise’s) black Hello Kitty flats as shoes. It was at this moment that I yelled for Baseball Boy to get out of the dumpster and Little Man to get in the car.
Baseball Boy emerged with the prize cardboard box. “Oh, why, oh why, can’t I be normal,” I thought. “I have one boy in a dumpster and one boy in girl shoes.”
We proceeded to the library.
When we arrived at the library, Little Man (who just turned three) got out of the car with only one shoe–the black Hello Kitty flat that was three sizes too big. “Where is your other shoe?”, I asked. While he was shrugging to indicate that he did not know, nor did he care, I got into an argument with Eloise about the ownership of the black Hello Kitty shoe (singular.) “I understand that the black Hello Kitty shoes belong to you ELOISE, but right now they are the only shoes Little Man has to wear into the library, so I referred to them as “his shoes”. This is only a temporary transfer of ownership!” Here I was interrupted by Baseball Boy who said, “He is wearing my shoes.” Thinking we had another “ownership” crisis, I started in on Baseball Boy. It was at this point that I realized Little Man (who just turned 3) had found Baseball Boy’s basketball shoes (also black, but 8 sizes too big), and was wearing them. “COULD WE PLEASE ALL LOOK FOR THE MISSING HELLO KITTY SHOE!!” I bellered. That required popping the trunk, which allowed all the Dumpster Dived Cardboard boxes to fall out into the parking lot, which allowed us to spot a Hello Kitty smiling up at us.
Then we walked into the library. Well Little Man (who just turned three), shuffled in because if he picked up his foot the black Hello Kitty shoe would fall off. This happened as we entered the library, which caused him to miss a step, which caused him to hit his head on the door, which caused him to cry, which caused me to look down and rub his head, which allowed the automatic door to shut on us, which caused the door to hit Little Man’s head again, which caused him to cry some more.
I gathered a mess of books as we are heading into a holiday weekend. Holiday weekends mean baseball tournaments, and I calculated that we are going to be in the car about 5 hours each day.
Following a book list, I carefully found special books for all the kids. (I am inserting that sentence so you can see that I really do try with the kids. Despite all appearances, I do try to be a mom to them.)
Then it was time to leave.
I gathered up the books and found Little Man (who is only three) playing happily on the puppet theater. BUT HE HAD NO SHOES ON. “Where are your shoes?” I asked. He shrugged his shoulders indicating that he didn’t know, nor did he care. The hunt began. Four kiddos and one Mommi looked all over the library for those black Hello Kitty flats. I even checked the trash cans. The librarian asked if she could help, and I said, “My little boy has lost his shoes”. . . and then I stopped. How do I begin to explain that they are black Hello Kitty flats that are three sizes too big.
We left the library without the black Hello Kitty flats.
Someday they are going to be found behind some book, or in a heat register, or inside a puppet, or with the World Encyclopedias. And someone is going to wonder “How could any respectable mother leave the library without her 8-year-old daughter in shoes?”
I wonder what they would think if they knew the whole story.
(Asleep on a pile of clean laundry.)