Husband just back from an 8-day South American adventure with Tulane.
Somehow having him home resulted in this as my Sunday run:
I did 3.8 miles.
It felt like it was 50.
I honestly feel it would have been better had I a lugged a sandbag.
Toddlers also cannot just enjoy the ride. Oh no.
Our excursion went a little something like this:
Gray: Mommmeeeeeee, where are we goooooing?
Me: On a run.
Gray: Mommmeeee, a ruuuun? Mommeeee ruuuun?
Me: Yes.
Gray: Raya run Mommeee?
Me: Yes.
Gray: Gray running Mommeee?
Me: No Gray is riding. In the stroller. You are riding in the stroller.
Gray: The stroller?
Me: Yes.
Gray: Mommmeeeeeeeee?
Me. (huff pufff)
Gray: MommmeeEEEEEEE?
Me: (huff) Yes. (Puff)
Gray: You see the truck mommmeeee? Mommeee that's a red truck. BEEP BEEP.
Me. Yes
Gray: Oh! You hear the firetruck mommmeeee? WOOWOOWOOWOOWOO
Me: (Insert iPod earplugs.)
Gray: (muffle muffle muffle muffle)
Me: That's great, honey. Wow!
Oh, don't judge! Have you ever had a conversation with a 2-year-old?
But I guess the perk to that enticing conversation
+
18 doggy potty breaks
+
3 plastic bags
+
14 pot holes...
..got us here:
There is a god.
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