I could hear my husband get exasperated, and yet I walked away.
Traveling with Audrey lately involves any number of toys, dolls, lippy, etc. that she has to have to function. Woe to the person that tries to spirit one away when she's not looking. She knows her inventory and will catalogue the item missing with a wail that could stop traffic the second you are a couple of blocks from the house.
Limit her to one, and she merely stuffs the backpack or bag she's carrying when you are not looking. She hauls it to the van herself, so you don't even know until you've reached your destination that she requires a luggage rack.
Maybe I'm just spoiled by the sweet compactness of video games, but really, do I need to bring the doll stroller?
"I need to push my baby."
I guess if it means I'm not carrying her, it's okay, I think, as I fold it up and put it in the van. Luckily, she's left it at home this week. Last Friday, it came with us to the mall. If you think it's fun having a toddler walk along with you in the mall, try having a toddler walk along pushing her own stroller.
I'm sure she didn't mean to knock that old guy in the shins.
Anyway, yesterday, I walked away when it was time for her to de-van, and let Daddy deal with it. Because sometimes, they need to experience these things for themselves. And I need proof that I am not the only ridiculously lenient person on earth.
I hear her Daddy say "no" and close the van door. I am clearly the most lenient person on earth.
Sure, she brought her usual bag of tricks, but the beloved bear that we got on our Friday trip to the mall was left behind.
Shall I get started on the evil that is Build-a-Bear? Perhaps another time.
Daddy said "no," and suddenly the pitter patter of little feet, along with the sniffling "mooommmmy" was behind me.
Sigh. Foiled, yet again, by the man they call Daddy.
The whimpering began. I put my foot down, in solidarity, of course, not because I didn't want to make a trip back to the van to get it.
She wanted to be picked up. Sniffle, sniffle, pout.
I had my hands full already, so Daddy stepped in. By the time we got to the citrus trees and he posited tossing her up into its branches so she could throw some oranges down at us, she was fine.
Behold, the power of Daddy.