The Fella and I spent Saturday with my nephew. Our plan was to go to the zoo, get dinner and then hang out with him while my sister went to a friend’s 30th birthday party and my brother-in-law was out of town for work. We picked him up and loaded him (and the stroller and the diaper bag and snacks and toys) into the car. Fifteen minutes later. . .
“Finn? Are you ready to go to the zoo?”
His response? “Zzzzzzzzz.”
Uh. . . I guess not. So we kept driving for an hour just letting him sleep. During the drive The Fella looks back at him and says,
“If I had ovaries they would hurt. Look at how sweet he looks.Finn is such a good boy. ”
“He hardly ever cries or fusses.”
“Oh he does but not that much. You just wait. It’s not all animal crackers and walks in the park.”
Fast-forward five hours when our movie is interrupted by a crying boy who startled himself awake after only sleeping an hour and a half. After 20-30 minutes of general soothing, bopping around and shooshing, he fell asleep again and I returned to a stricken Fella.
See? Told ya.