Today we went to Target. I didn't want to take both the kids but Carter pitched a weepfest as I was trying to leave the house so he ended up coming with us, too (after promising to be a good boy, and to stay in the cart and to listen to mommy. and to not run from mommy, etc....). So long story short- a trip to Target always requires a bribe for good behavior. Seasoned mothers know this. It so happens that today the crap-filled dollar section had foam swords stacked high and just waiting for my two year olds grubby, grasping hands.
Ahhh, that damn sword has been taken away from him 4 times this evening because he has beat down everything (including kevin, me and poor little Owen) in this house. What is it about a sword or a stick in a little boys hands that inspires whacking people with it? Very medieval.
Anyway, my boy is sound asleep with his little-man body wrapped protectively around his treasure; his foam sword.
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