My mom and I had a lunch thing today, so I asked my brother and sister in law to watch the kids. We dropped them off, and as I was walking out the door Will realized I was leaving so he turned to run after me crying and saying, “Mama!” (And then he fell down right as I left. Pretty pathetic.) Then, approximately 37 seconds later (seriously, we were only like a block from the house) my brother sends me a text message that reads:
Sorry to say, but you are apparently easily replaced by an inflatable t-rex.
That’s right, as soon as the dinosaurs came out all thoughts of Mama were gone. Apparently he carried the dinosaur around for most of the time.
Then when we picked the kids up my sister in law informed me that Will was terrified of their dog, Petri. Like, trembling when Petri came too close. She said she ended up putting Petri in the kennel. Petri? Is a miniature pinscher. He weighs like 10 lbs. He is TINY. So let’s get this straight: man-eating dinosaur = something to cuddle and teeny tiny dog = time to be terrified. Well, as long as we’re clear.