DH, the A's, and I were out for a rambling Sunday jaunt with some friends. Our friends also have an infant, and all of the kids seemed just a trifle cranky during the walk. That meant we stopped every 8 seconds to pop back in a pacifier, wipe a nose, or calm some screaminess. A hiking loop that is only a few miles long took us over an hour to complete. Speediness, thy name is not family.
After the hike we visited one of our favorite ice cream parlors. The ice cream made Big A twirl around the sidewalks and nearly collide with many pedestrians and their dogs (some of whom she yelled "BAAAAD DOG!"at because she is afraid of dogs) until we found our way to a playground where the sugar seizure could run its course. Finally everyone was hungry again, so we walked to the super market to pick up something for dinner.
Big A spied one of those shopping carts that look like a car and can carry two kids at the same time. They are gargantuan and incredibly hard to steer, so naturally Big A loves them as much as I despise them. Once we had the cart, we fell into our usual routine of throwing anything into it that looked or smelled good. It was only after we paid for everything that it occurred to us our car was not parked in the supermarket lot. It was back by the ice cream parlor, several blocks away.
We got some snickers on the way back to the car as we lumbered along, baby in our arms and a 12-pack of beer safely strapped into the stroller.