Saturday, September 15, 2012

Attack of the Baby in Puppy Shoes

Tonight while I waited for Son #1 to clean his room, I wandered around the house randomly picking up toys and chatting with Son #2.  He wore a sweet, long-sleeved onesie and furry, little puppy shoes.  At first he chattered along in baby talk and then he got an idea.  All at once he began to chase me around the house.  When he caught me he would grab a hold of my jeans, squeal with laughter, and bury his face into my legs.

We raced around the house for a while and then I got a silly idea.  The next time he grabbed my jeans, I made goofy fart noises with my mouth.  From behind me, I heard shrieks of laughter.  Son #2 fell to the ground and chortled with delight.  When he got up, we raced again only this time fart noises were added to our sequence of silliness.

Round and round we raced and ran.  I would glance behind me periodically.  From these sideways glances I could see Son #2 running as fast as his puppy shoes would carry him.  Time and time again he would catch me and laugh.  Sweat began to drip off his curls and I could hear him breathing heavily.  Finally, our silly game finished. 

Son #1 was done cleaning his room.  Son #2 was utterly exhausted.  I was on a mission to put our two sweet boys to bed.  My husband removed the puppy shoes from Son #2's feet and placed them by his other shoes.  Those little puppy shoes served Son #2 well tonight. 

"Until next time little puppy shoes"  I thought.  "and sleep tight Son #2."

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