My day started out like any normal day...woke up, ate peanut butter toast with The Girl, showered, dressed, etc. Before taking the dog for a walk, we went to Starbucks for a seven-pump Venti Chai (me) and a milk (The Girl). After the walk, we went to Target, leaving the dog and the milk in the car. No, the dog didn't do anything. The Girl on the other hand crapped the biggest smelliest poo EVER while we shopped. Of course I had no diapers in the purse, so we bought some, changed her and headed to the car. Then things really spiraled out of control. If may have been the extra Chai. It may have just been the fact that I am insane.
My phone rang as I was putting The Girl in the car. so I was chatting as I tried to hoist her butt over the cupholder on the carseat. Yes, THAT cupholder that was still holding half of THAT Starbucks milk. Didn't quite hoist her high enough, thereby dragging the cup under her butt, onto the carseat, crushing and spilling it. So I stuck the husband's jacket on the carseat to absorb the milk and sat The Girl on the jacket. Then she was up too high to buckle her in, so I just let her sit there unbuckled with her arms in the straps. TIME OUT: Please don't comment about what a bad mother I am to let my child ride in a car without the straps buckled. I KNOW. I KNOW. I. KNOW.
I continued to chat on the phone (hi V!), while the dog jumped around looking for a dog treat, and I unloaded the cart and headed home. Soon Grace realized she could get out of her seat since she wasn't buckled. I'm sure she also had uncomfortable soggy milk pants. So I bribed her to sit back with the leftover lemon zucchini muffin (yummy!). Worked for 10 seconds. We were stopped at a red light and I was still chatting on the phone when she got up again. This time I shouted, "Sit down before the cops catch us." Of course, she thought it would be funny if the cops would indeed catch us and continued to climb out of her carseat and onto the seat next to her! Hilarious, no? NO IS RIGHT, SISTER! I finally had the sense to ditch the phone call, turn around and tell The Girl not to move, and slowly finish the drive home.
It was a crazy 1.3 miles from Target to our house. AND YES, I promise not to do that again. Sheesh. Fuckin' Chai.