Wow, Kristen. You are a fun mom, taking your kids to all of these fall festivals.
Nah, I have been working the fall festivals. My family drops me (along with around twelve crates of tees) off on a local main street somewhere at 7:00 a.m. and then they come back for me at 5:00 or 6:00 p.m. What goes on between those hours between my three men is only relayed to me in unintended code spoken by three-year-old's, 20-month-old's and probably intentional codes by fathers who know better.
I was virtually dead on my feet yesterday when they showed up early to check out the festival before it was time to help me pack up. I was on day FOURTEEN of my sinus infection and feeling not so great (and I have yet to meet that new SUPERSISTER niece of mine). I had started out my day throwing up and I was ready to go home and put my feet up.
It turns out my children's day involved splitting wood and axes and I don't know what else. I know better than to ask. Either way, it didn't matter by the time they showed up because it appeared that their last 20 minutes had been busy. The boys were dragging along all manner of swag found at fall festivals. Ice scrapers emblazoned with real estate agent's info, wooden rulers from painting companies, balloon animals, some snappy balloon thing that is really a weapon and the biggest bag of kettle corn you have ever seen. Apparently the trek from the truck was a long one.
My husband was clearly trying to get on my good side to show up with that bag of popcorn. To say I love kettle corn would be a slight understatement. It only took a few minutes for the boys to find the twist tie at the top of the bag. Minutes later they had fistfuls of popcorn and they were shoving it into their little mouths as fast as possible. The twist tie mysteriously disappeared and then Ethan was swinging the bag over his head. His brother started running around him, trying to grab the bag. I did what every good mother does.
I yelled at them to stop. They ignored me. And then the top of the bag started to open a little. Popcorn started flying out of the top of the bag. This was awesome for The Baby because he was trying to get popcorn. He bent down and started eating the popcorn off the sidewalk. I hesitated for a second. Five second rule? Ten second rule? He seemed happy. I like it when he is happy.
Except I didn't realize that the popcorn had landed in a large pile of cigarette butts outside of this office door. I had to drag him away screaming. His older brother started to dutifully pick up the popcorn and put it back in the bag. We don't litter. Now I'm trying to keep The Baby from eating cigarette butts and keep The Boy from putting grossified popcorn and butts back in the bag.
No popcorn for me yesterday. What are you gonna do? A mom has to have her limits, right?