I had a date last night with my favorite guy.
We pulled into City Park, and called our friends who didn’t answer. I left a message. “We’re here, we’ll just drive around until we see hundreds of people on a 2k run! Shouldn’t be hard to find!” Seconds later, we saw a pack of runners, joggers, walkers with strollers, and knew we’d found our quarry.
We parked in a grassy area next to the road. I said a silent prayer to the No Parking Ticket gods, and then popped the trunk. Out came the gargantuan stroller, the diaper bag full of ‘nacks and juice, and then out came my date. It was just Jack and me, a night on the town, and I was thrilled. Especially because I’d allowed him to spend the entire span from breakfast until lunch watching Blues Clues. That’s, like, 3 hours of straight Nick Jr. We both needed to get out of the house after THAT parenting fail.
I jogged him up to the route. I pondered asking one of the participants if this was the 2k run. Deciding that such a question would be inane given the circumstances, we just pulled into the crowd and started walking. It was a lovely evening – not too hot or buggy – and I let Jack get out and run himself several times. He kept getting distracted by his reflection in parked cars, pointing at himself and chirping “Jack! Jack!”, so I’d heft him into the stroller again. By the end we were being followed by the end-of-race police car, but I figured we weren’t looking for medals, or even fitness on this lovely eve. Just a few precious moments together, and alone, me and my number one boy. (My number two boy, and I am referring only to birth order here of course, was home with dad, hollering the entire time, but my long suffering husband knew I needed a break and stuck it out.)
It took us something like 40 minutes to finish. At the very end, Jack did a face plant. The sight of his bright blond head hitting the pavement (and the sound of his wails – he really did bang up his face) is what alerted our friends to our presence, and we joined them for a free beer/apple juice, which cured Jack’s face plant blues. After chatting a bit with our friends, I got a phone call from The Professor. Seeing as I couldn’t hear a word he said over the newborn wailing*, I told everyone we had to pack it up and head home.
It was a lovely night, and when I returned to Screamy McScreamerson, he had cried himself exhausted and was asleep. but he’s crying right now so I don’t have time to think of a clever, meaningful ending! Ciao!
*As soon as I heard him cry, my boobs responded. I ended up with two wet circles on my shirt, HOW EMBARRASSING. I pondered asking someone to douse me with water so they wouldn’t show up, but instead I just hightailed it.