When we go to the park, I secretly hope that there are other kids there so I won’t have to play with Chunky.
I love Chunky from the top of his head to the tips of his stinky toes.
In fact, I love his cute face so much that I often tell him that I want to eat him.
“No Momma! That will make me bleed!” he says.
Their minds are so literal.
We do a lot of things together.
We bake, we paint, we create masterful pieces of art with sidewalk chalk…
He’s like the short, clumsy, anti-pants, sticky fingered Robin to my Batman.
But sometimes I need a breather.
Do you know that the only time I’ve had “me” time is when I’ve been at the 234728395275 doctor appointments I’ve had in the last few weeks?
I can’t even pee by myself.
My brain has been all sorts of crazy these last few weeks.
Kind of like the various ways you can cook an egg.
Scrambled, hard boiled, fried, sunny-side up, dropped on the floor…
Maybe that was a bad analogy.
I am hungry.
Don’t judge me.
And I just need rest and space.
But Chunky has been all over me like a fat kid on a cake.
So when the warm weather hit, I excitedly packed up a book, a travel mug of tea and the kid and headed to the park.
The entire way I prayed to 8 pound 6 ounce baby Jesus that there was at least one kid there who would take Chunky off my hands for just one single minute.
And hallelujah…the park was full of kids.
And I was able to breathe.
Needless to say, we go to the park every day.
PS. Happy St. Patty’s Day.
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