Wednesday, May 9, 2012

I have seen the future. And it is named Kyle.


Last weekend, Josh and I took the little guy to Target. He doesn’t sit in the cart anymore, preferring instead to toddle around the aisles, push the elevator buttons, touch everything, and be a general nuisance. Taking him to Target is a two person job these days. Josh was in charge of following him around and plying him with fruit snacks while I tried to pick out a gift for a wedding shower. As I was perusing the wine, a three year old curly-haired, carrot-topped tornado came whipping around the corner. “This is NOT an aisle for you, Kyle!” screeched his poor mother, in hot pursuit. But Kyle was already running full speed down the aisle, one arm stretched out towards the glass bottles lining the shelves while he laughed manically. I gazed at this little ginger ball of energy, and then up at his mother. She looked exhausted and avoided my eyes, deftly grabbing a bottle off the shelves as she herded him towards less-breakable waters. “I’ll be needing this,” she muttered to herself. Then they were off again. I could hear her yelling warnings to other shoppers as Kyle darted in front of carts a few aisles away. Josh walked up holding Elliot, a look of amusement-slash-terror on his face. “Oh my god,” he said. “That is going to be us.

Yes. Yes, it is.

Better stock up on wine.

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