I don’t have children so I have to live vicariously through my sisters stories, here’s a good one from my sister Anita about her 3 year old son Noah. . .
Noah-isms
Or, rather, a more appropriate subject would be Noah messes.
It's pretty cute that he calls his spider man "Spider Fan" it was "Fifer
Fan" for the longest time.
The other day I went to the Wendys' drive through and got a blt salad and a
big cup of Coke Zero. Evil stuff I know. I pulled over in the parking lot
and I got Noah out of his car seat and we settled in to have a snack. As I
unpack my salad and dressing I realized I have no fork and knife. I decided
to go back to the drive through and get a fork/knife set. Since I wasn't
leaving the parking lot I didn't bother putting Noah back in his car seat.
Just as I was pulling out, looking behind me for cars and steering so I had
no free hand(s) and I could not react fast enough to avert this minor
disaster: My dear sweet Noah, reached for the big, full cup of coke and
spilled it. The full, heavy cup, slippery with condensation, the cup with
the lid that barely snaps on, slipped out of his little hands and fell,
upside down, straight into my purse. No big splash, no mess in the van,
because my purse caught the whole huge cup of coke. My purse was open just
so. My purse and Noahs' 'sleight' of hand: A perfect storm.
Moments like that can deflate me. Completely. Until I stuck the straw into
my purse and had a big slurp. (fyi - a big,old, mama purse can really hold a
lot of coke )
