Hoping to not get caught in a downpour, Justin, Robbie, Barkley, and I took a walk up to the park. Robbie, of course, donning his bright yellow rain coat. On the way there, Justin carried Robbie on his shoulders. Mostly because we were fighting a losing battle in getting Robbie to do any walking – particularly in the right direction. And then we heard it. The f-word. From our little cherub’s mouth. Not to anyone in particular.
Justin looked up quickly, and said, “Robbie, did you just say f___?” Robbie giggle and yelled, “F___!” Several times. I suppose we’re going to have to start monitoring his HBO… After all, I’m sure he never heard a word like that from either Justin or me. And I would hope that Zhining would at least curse in Chinese. Hmm…
Our good parenting continued when we arrived at the park. Barkley took a quick dip in the pond and Robbie came down for closer inspection. And didn’t stop walking when he got to the water. Didn’t stop when he got past his shoes. Or the bottom of his shorts. Or his diaper. Or the bottom of his shirt. No. My kid walked into the water all the way up to his waist. Fully clothed. Thank God he had his rain coat on. That really helped.
Robbie ran all around the pond, through the woods, evading Justin and me. And then back into the water, just far enough to be out of reach. He fell a few times, so, when I finally fished him out of the pond, he was soaked. Head to Buzz Lightyear-shod toe. But he wasn’t ready to go. Oh, no. Not my kid. He wanted to stay and go down the slide and go back in the water and do anything but walk toward our house.
When Justin and I insisted it was time to go, Robbie threw himself on the sand-covered ground and launched into a full-bodied temper tantrum. Covering himself in sand. And we were half a mile from home. With a kid who didn’t want to go home. So, yes. I carried a soaking wet toddler home. And walked in the door soaked and covered in sand. Winning.