My kid may not be able to pull up his own pants, or tie his shoes, or for heaven's sake affix his velcro sandals, but he has reached the age of photo taking hatred. It breaks my heart. For example, yesterday I ran in the house and dropped off a load of groceries only to find my pint-size child sticking his head out the sunroof. (Mother of the year right here!) The look of pride on that boy's face was priceless, but the instant I reached for my phone, he ducked and started whining about no cameras. You think he was chased by the paparazzi in a past life? (I understand if you stop reading the blog if it has no photos... if you haven't already.)
The family made a trip to the King farm. After a tortuous drive there (My child would not rest. He wanted nothing to do with dinner and did not seem to understand holiday weekend traffic), it was lovely. We arrived, handed the barnacle to the grandparents and disappeared for a few hours of uninterrupted conversation, more driving, and some retail therapy. The return ride began as a repeat of our ride there, non-stop chatter interrupted by some whining followed by a dose of traffic confusion. Happily, mid-way home he announced, "I want to take a nap." Alrighty then! I am really hoping this was not a preview of our eight our drive to the beach next month.
|Tip from the Expert (I'm no expert.): They can't protest if they are sleeping.|