bla bla bla bla BLA

Daniel and I took off for a walk today at around 11am, the plan being to be home in time for a late nap for him by 1pm, tops, and it went to plan until it all went to shit because, uh, we got home about a half an hour ago, so Daniel is sans sleep and merrily playing with the new Annie and Clarabel Tag Along Thomas thingies he scored today. They go with the new track I bribed him to love me with, and he loves Gordon ("ai lah gornan" SO CUTE) and the carriage I got him last week to pad the bribe for TWICE as much as they sold for today in Target. GAH. We had a crisis at about T + 45 mins when hise other Gordon, the one buck Gordon that isn't the twenty buck motherfucker I bought last week, went missing somewhere in Target. Now, this is about the SEVENTH much loved, albeit cheap shit, Gordon that Daniel's either stashed on a random shelf or chucked out of the stroller when out and about, so I was all "Daniel, focus. Where's Gordon?", and Daniel was all "ai lah gornon", except he isn't the sucker who has to console him when he asks for Gordon when it's bed time, and he isn't the hardass who tell him that particular Gordon won't EVER be back because the store promotion is over and they're fresh out of cheapass Gordon because WE BOUGHT THEM ALL because he keeps THROWING them away. People, it got to the point where I was all "WHERE'S GORDON??", and he was all *weeps*, which while it broke my heart it was either stress the kid out with the vague hope of relocating the errant tank engine, or having the kid stress out later that evening when he realises the Gordon lack, but by then, there'd be NO HOPE of ever finding him. Which we did, thank god, so all the child abuse was worth it and my, isn't this an interesting story.

Then we went to the salvos and stayed there for EVER, and Daniel was so good, tootling around and having a whale of a time looking at himself in mirrors and messing with the pots and pans and announcing to anyone who cared "Ai cookin'!". I have no idea where he learned that because me + cooking = guff + faw.

It reminds me though, that have so got to buy him a toy kitchen because he plays with one at child care and my heavens, the passion! And the other day at the reproductive unit's playroom there was another kitchen and seriously, "Ai cookin' da CHIPPIES!", is a phrase I have GOT to hear again. Seriously, this kitchen had fake CHIPS in a fake chip fryer basket. TOO ADORABLE.

So yes, that's been our day. I'm still unshowered with the most glamorous hairdo, and Daniel is wearing clothes I was going to wash this morning before thinking, am I mad? We'll go for a walk to the store, he'll steal lollies again from the bulk foods section, and honestly, they let him walk away with handfuls of that shit. He dutifully passes his score over at the checkout, and they usually get handed right back with an "OHMYGODHESSOCUTE" while I sputter "but it's like, the FIFTIETH time he's STOLEN this shit!") POINT BEING, he doesn't eat the lollies, he unwraps them then holds them in his sweaty hands until they melt all over him. He gets mighty sticky so going to the store in clean clothes is total and utter lunacy. No, it's much better that he goes out in public looking like a (very dirty) neglected child.

And lookit! Again with the rivetting stories!