Time to move on little man

It’s about 7:30pm. I get the idea in my head that I want to go look at a new pair of shoes. I load up Toby with promises that we’ll go look at toys afterwards if he is good. We head to the first store. A few shoes I like. These green ones seem to fit ok. I don’t “love” them. Toby is running around being his charming self. Patrons and employees look at him and then smile at me. Toby slides across the floor on his stomach laughing. A nice couple chuckle and walk past. Yeah, really cute. Time to move on little man.

It takes me a minute to pry him away from the rounder of tshirts and get him to sit in his stroller. We roll out. Stopping for a second to say hi to someone I know who just walked in with his family. Moving on little man. We get to some stairs. He gets out so I can carry the strollers down about two stairs. Then… Then… I see it. Well not really it, but them. The brown dots speckled throughout the seat of his stroller. Confusion sets in, quickly
replaced my a realization of what I am looking at. In slow motion that Michael Bay would have been proud of, I turn my head to see Toby with a large brown stain on his back covering both shorts and shirt. Time to move on little man.

He’s yelling that he wants to ride the horse! Can’t bro, you just crapped yourself. Nope, you can’t get out. You have poop all over you. We get to the car. Praise Jesus I have wipes and an extra diaper. Crap, only four wipes. This is at least at 6-7 wipe job. Nothing, absolutely nothing like stripping your kid down naked in the middle if the parking lot as you clean off his butt and front side. Clean, well mostly, ok the big pieces. New diaper. No little man, you cannot go ride the horse now. No you don’t have clothes on and you still have poop on you. Tomorrow. Time to move on little man.


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