Don't you feel sorry for me? (gag)
Sunday afternoon my biggest cheerleader insisted on a pick-me-up. Not only did I get to practice my long board skills on the boulevard during naptime (SICK, I KNOW!), but I also got to head up the road to see where my crew had hung out the day before. The sun was shining, the streams heading down to the river were sparkling, the aspen trees were finally sprouting out some leaves, and the river was crazy loud due to the snow melt. Just what I needed.
Tesoro walked us down closer to the river and I only suffered about 500 million mini heart attacks due to the extreme confidence of one toddler boy. He thinks he can fly, jump, climb, and cross any one thing that just so happens to get in his way. He and I got into a fight about who was boss when it came to standing on boulders that were one inch away from death. I said he had to hold my hand. He said he didn't. I said he did. He said he didn't.
Because I'm bigger and bitchier, I won.
Unfortunately for him and his dreams, things aren't always equal. I tried to explain it, but the concept just wasn't making sense to him: because life isn't all red wine and smoked ghouda, I get to sit on the rock without holding anyone's hand. I just do. (also? It's SO fun!)
Have I mentioned my kid is a huge Billie Jean fan (I could practically hear him shouting past his raised fist, "FAIR IS FAIR!")? With that said, the wee one got me back... he's a rock thrower, you know (except not really. I mean, sorta. He does love throwing rocks, but the only ones he can toss go into the river. It just so happens that this gigantic one that went about two inches to the left of my head was an accident on his part. I think.)
The thing is, I don't go down easily. I mean, I'd been stuck in front of a computer screen for HOURS. And because I'm an even bigger Billie Jean fan than he is, I put the same dose of fear into his heart as he had done to mine.
Then he and his papa both ran from me like bats out of hell.
