Jackson and I went to the store the other day, which is probably about a half a mile away. On this particular day, it took us a whopping 45 minutes to get home! He was in his own little world. And he insisted on carrying that dang bag of apples. *sigh*
Look how cute I am in my track suit. I am stoked. Mom is even going to let me carry this bag of apples.
I wonder if Mom will notice if I start running the other direction.
I get nervous about steps, so I better lift my leg up really high even though this is a completely level surface.
I'm really moving now.
Where is that Call to Prayer always coming from?
I can do this. I can hold on to a bag of apples, my binky, a graham cracker, AND drink from my sippy.
P.S. My mom is a sucker for letting me have my binky any time we go to the store because she knows that if she doesn't, she'll regret it. MUWAHAHA.
Man, I am gooooood lookin'. Cheeeeese.
I think I'm just going to drop these apples right here and let them all bruise because they're getting a little heavy for my taste.
Better yet, I'll put them in the stroller.
Nope, I found another spot to put them on the ground.
No Mom, you can't go get the apples. I will stand here and block you if you try.
Yes, I know I'm supposed to pick them up. I'm stalling.
No matter how fast I run, I can't catch that dark cut-out of me on the ground.
Yes, Mom, I'm still cute.
I finally made it. But man, my arm is tired. I think I'll just drag the bag of apples along the sidewalk. No one will notice, and I'll still have the satisfaction of carrying them all the way home and taking as long as possible to do it.