His Father's Son

If it wasn't obvious just by looking at the child, I'm here to tell you that Camden is absolutely without a doubt his father's son.

One of my favorite stories about Ryan as a child is about the time that he tossed his sister Cara's Popple out of the car window and into the Mississippi River.  (I'm totally smiling and trying not to laugh as I type this).  I have no idea why he did it - but my guess is that he was just being a little shit.

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Several Sundays ago we were going through the grocery store for our usual weekly grocery shopping outing.  We had Camden's favorite Wubba Nub Duck in the cart - for something for him to play with and suck on (duh) if need be.  At some point in our shopping adventure, I noticed that the Wubba Nub was gone.  Ducky had been tossed.

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Of course, on this particular shopping trip, we had been through the entire store.  Literally.  So, Ryan and I split up, looking for the lost Ducky, and searching to no avail.  I was so determined to find this binky that we searched the store twice and I even asked the customer service desk if anyone had dropped it by.  When I asked if anyone had returned a paci (I may or may not have been sweating), the lady looked at me like I was nuts.  I tried to explain that it wasn't just any paci, and that it had a duck attached to it.  This time, she looked at me like I was really nuts.  We finally gave up the search and headed home, never to see the Wubba Nub Duck again.

More recently, while on a walk in our neighborhood, we (Camden and I) were wrapping up and heading back home when I noticed a small white object just lying in the middle of the road.  I checked the stroller to see which of the gang was missing -- Roberto? Elmo? Sophie?  Sure enough, Camden had tossed his Bubble Puppy (thank goodness it wasn't his beloved, Molly!).  We scooped him up and headed home.

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And finally, just this past weekend, Camden and I were on yet another walk.  I get tired of walking in our neighborhood so we set out on Clear Creek Trail.  We had walked 2.5 miles roundtrip (at a 14-minute mile pace), so I was dog tired when we got back to the car.  I bent over the stroller to get him out and noticed that we had left a man behind.  Elmo.  Son of an effing nutcracker.

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I stood there (sweaty and panting) and debated for awhile if Elmo was really worth a potential 2.5 mile trek.  I decided he was (never leave a man behind!).  Who can't stand to log a few extra miles, anyway?!  We set out (me cursing under my breath) in search of the small red fella.  Just over a quarter mile in, I spotted two older ladies walking towards us, right where little Elmo was lying helpless in the middle of the path.  One of the ladies picked him up, waved him above her head and I waved my hand wildly back -- assuming that was the appropriate response.

We met and they just thought Camden was the cutest thing ever and thought it was so funny that he had been tossed.  As we jogged away I repeatedly told him (through clinched teeth) that he was really lucky that he is the cutest thing ever because this "tossing stuff out of moving vehicles when mama isn't looking" shit is really getting old.

Maybe I just need to pay closer attention?  Or maybe Camden could stand to not be like his father when it comes to tossing things?

Thank goodness we don't live close to any rivers.

Take Luck,

LP