Love Got Off on the Right Foot

….or was that the left?

Ever have one of those days when everything just feels out of whack? Maybe your hair just wouldn’t cooperate this morning or you tried to put the wrong key in the lock? Milk in the pantry maybe or trying to put your pants on before your underwear? Something’s not right but you can’t put your finger on it.

My brain must have been replaced with the contents of a balloon this particular peculiar day.

The three of us had left home to have lunch with my mum. I asked Now 6 to help Just 3 with his shoes to save me 30 seconds and hopefully get us out the door on time.

We met Mum, enjoyed a light lunch and then went into a department store to find a gift for a child’s birthday party. The store was having its annual toy sale which normally means aisles full of boxes and no room to manoeuvre. Going into the depths of the toy section with two in tow without a trolley means anxiety meets hysteria. The unanimous decision, made by me, was to get a trolley.

Just 3’s legs dangled from his prominent position as I promised a stop off at a playground nearby if the two of them could manage to contain themselves long enough for us to get a gift and checkout. Unfortunately Just 3 had consumed half a milkshake at lunch and decided he needed the toilet just as we got to the toy section at the back of the store.

There are no toilets in this store.

Drive trolley like a mad woman to store entrance.

Offload precious cargo.

Forehead beaded with sweat, I made a dash with two attachments to the toilets.

Everybody pee consecutively.

Back to store.

Back in trolley.

Back to toy section.

Right-y-o.

Arriving at the playground after having unsuccessfully completed our mission, Just 3 steps out of the car and prepares to take off for the equipment.

It is then, and only then, that I look down at his feet for the first time today.

‘Sweetheart? Do your feet feel funny today?’

‘Um, no.’

‘Your shoes are on the wrong feet. Don’t they feel funny?’

‘…..No.’

‘Come here and sit down. We need to put them on the right feet otherwise you’ll probably fall over.’

My son doesn’t need any more excuses to trip over. He does well enough all on his own.

He may well have two left feet so his feet didn’t feel funny at all.

Only one foot did.

Image from: here.

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I’d Love an Explanation

girl toddler cryingPlease explain love to me.

Life makes me smile and laugh often. Until recently I had just forgotten to listen. Eavesdropping on life’s little moments warms the cockles of the heart.

In the school grounds I heard a child crying. It didn’t sound like the type of cry that’s normally attached to a tantrum. Just crying. Incessantly.

As my boys and I saw the little girl come into sight, we watched as she walked holding her mum’s hand; still crying incessantly. She wouldn’t have been much over 2. Next to her was her older brother who would be about 10. Another boy of about the same age was also walking with them. As we passed there was a brief exchange between the two boys.

‘Why is your little sister crying?’

‘I dunno.’  Pause  ‘Little kids just do that. There’s no other reason. They just do.’

‘Oh.’

Hearing these two young boys discuss the logic or reasoning for the onset of tears made me laugh inwardly on many levels. I wondered if the friend had any younger siblings or whether he, himself, was the youngest. It amused me that ‘just because’ resolved the issue as far as they were concerned and the need to delve deeper was not present. It got me to thinking, if this exchange took place between two girls of the same age would the conversation have been as brief? Would they have gone on to decipher the cry and list all the logical reasons as to why it might be occurring in the first place? Credit to the older brother though, in not identifying this as a trait of little girls-just little kids in general-or did he make an assumption based on his experience?

This simple dialogue is shared between adults the world over. In my mind’s eye I pictured these two boys as men discussing their own children, beer in hand, and the actual spoken words would not change too much from that of a 10 year old boys that they were. On the other hand, we ladies-while sharing a coffee-would list, analyse, dissect, suggest, advise, sympathise and offer assistance.

I’m just a stereotypical mum of two. What would I know?

If anyone has a better explanation, I’d love to hear it.

Kelly

Image from: here.