It is a surreal feeling, when you pull your car up along the sidewalk feeling a sense of euphoria for having found a 29" x 29" soft pink elephant napping blanket in front of a sausage factory.
It is an odd mixture of "is this really my life?" meshed perfectly with "there is a god, my children will be happy, I should start playing the Power ball, and do we need any sausage?"
You might be asking, how did you get there Bean? How did you get to the point where you were doing a recovery mission for a missing pachyderm? What sequence of events had you scanning the sidewalks of Stamford for the Little Lady's big nonnie?
Well let's just say it involved the bookstore, a bottle of water and breakdowns (a large one by the Lady and small one by me).
Let's just start by saying that I had an 8am dentist appointment. That right there doesn't bode well for the rest of the day.
I decided to get the Ladies out and about early. We took out the stroller and headed out towards the bookstore. I promised the Lady that we would see two more art sculptures of cats and dogs that we had missed.
The walk was uneventful. The Little Lady passed out. The Lady and I discussed the option of book buying.
We saw the animals. A sparkly cat and an IPhone inspired dog. We headed into Barnes and Noble.
Things started off well. There were plenty of Princess inspired books and toys for the Lady to peruse. There was also a stage on which she could do some of her amazing dance moves. Perhaps we danced too long?
We made a pit stop in the B&N bathroom. FYI. .. their toilets flush aggressively loud and I blame them for waking up the Little Lady. We then headed back to the kids section to pick out a book.
I tried to persuade the Lady to pick out something non-Princess related. This did not work. We found a book about Ariel, I picked out a new Sandra Boynton for the Little Lady and we took the elevator upstairs to find a book for me.
Why did I think that I would actually be able to look around and pick out a book for myself? What type of fantasy world am I living in? Anyway, I decided to buy the final book in the Stieg Larsson, Girl with the Dragon Tattoo series. I mean, I read the first two, but I didn't really want to commit to buying a hardcover, after some hemming and hawing, I decided to get it. However, the Lady decided that she had had enough and was ready to leave. She chose the moment right before we were heading to the check out counter to walk out of the bookstore into the mall.
This forced me to put the books down, leave the Little Lady sitting in the stroller and make a mad dash to grab my firstborn. She was not pleased. Neither was I.
I did the responsible parent thing and strapped her, screaming, into the stroller and walked out sans books. The crying continued down the elevator to the street level. It continued past the giant horses outside P.F. Chang's, it continued as we crossed over two streets and made our way home. And what was it that she was screaming? "I WANT MY ARIEL BOOK!"
At one point I had to stop the stroller and hold her. She was physically trying to launch herself out of the stroller onto the sidewalk, even though she was strapped in.
I tried to calm her down. I bribed her with fruit snacks. She seemed to be okay. She stopped crying. We passed Dunkies. I had to go in. I mean, I needed a small fix after that tantrum. I got a coffee and they threw in their complimentary munchkins. We were almost home.
As we rounded the corner onto our street, the Lady asked for a donut. I said no because she just ate fruit snacks. I told her she had to be a good listener, blah, blah, blah and that the reason we left the bookstore was because she wasn't listening. . . this wasn't a good idea. It just reminded her of Ariel and the screaming started again.
As we were walking up the driveway the Lady took herself out of her side of the stroller (no, I didn't strap her back in after I took her out) and climbed on top of the Little Lady. I now had two screaming kids. This yelling by the Lady did not stop. She sat on the path outside our door and screamed.
It was hot. I was tired. The Little Lady needed a bottle. I decided that if the Lady was going to sit there and scream, I should at least supervise her. I started to pour some Poland Spring into the bottle.
Apparently, the Lady was thirsty.
"I WANT THE WATER! I WANT THE LITTLE LADIES WATER!"
This went on for a minute or two and then things got physical. The Lady tried to pry the bottle out of my hands. She needed the water that was in the baby bottle, the leftover water in the water bottle was not sufficient. We scuffled. She started to growl. I finally was able to release her death grip on the baby's bottle and as I tried to shovel in the formula mix, the Lady found the rest of the water bottle and poured it over my head.
There are good days and then there was Monday.
I tried to keep it together. I finished making the bottle and sat on the stairs leading upstairs to our place, while the Lady stayed on the bottom of the stairs, still kicking and screaming about the water bottle.
I was finally able to coax her upstairs, throw some lunch at her and convince her that we needed to hit the streets in an attempt to find Effie the missing elephant.
I loaded the Ladies into the car. I was hoping we hadn't dropped it in the bookstore, because the Lady was only wearing princess undies. We pulled out of our driveway and started to retrace our route. I was hoping that no one was behind me, because I was driving like 7 miles per hour, trying to look behind parked cars for anything with a hint of pink.
And then, out of the corner of my eye, there she was. She was crumpled in a heap, just laying on the sidewalk, and that my friends is how I found the Little Lady's pink elephant in front of the sausage factory.
