My little devil Lola, who just turned 19 months, is trouble with a capital T. She is a stubborn, demanding, fussy little mini-me.
We were at Wal-Mart (pick a day, any day) and since she discovered the joys of walking at 17 months she has refused to sit in a cart. She squirms and yells and flails until I give in and let her have her freedom.
This makes shopping fun.
NO. It doesn't! It is frustrating having to run after her because she thinks it's "funny" to have me chase her throughout the aisles pushing my cart with one hand, tossing in random items because I don't have time to look at them.
It was cute the first couple of times, I admit it. She's adorable with her pigtails and big green eyes and mischievious giggle but I no longer go into Wal-Mart to shop - I go in on a mission!
Heading straight for the milk, we then make a mad dash for a loaf of bread. If I'm lucky, I get to choose which bag of chips we snack on... if not, it's whatever is within reach as I chase her towards the cashier. Once I catch her, I hold her like a wiggly football and toss my items on the belt while listening to her yell and whine.
Other moms usually look at me with an empathetic "Been there" look but once in a while I get a glare from another person as if I'm purposely torturing my child. Yes, I enjoy listening to her scream and I find malicious ways to do it, ESPECIALLY in public. Pinching her chubby little butt is one of my favourite ways to get her to yell.
C'mon! I would never torture my child in public... too many witnesses! Plus it's so 1990s.
Once we head to the truck with our 60 items instead of just the milk and bread, Lil' Miss Sunshine smiles and sits pretty in her carseat.
Ahh, the mood swings have started already. Good thing the Liquor Barn is within spitting distance!! :}
Cheers,
Tamara
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