The Wife and I sang in the Palm Sunday mass today at church. It went well, even though the tenors seemed to be singing something other than the anthem today. Oh, well. At least it wasn't my fault. We got back home at 12:50, and The Boy was asleep. I joined him, and we slept until a little before 3 o'clock.
At that point, we woke up & changed a poopy diaper. The Wife had left for an orchestra rehearsal at 2:30, so it was just us guys. I said to The Boy, "Do you want to go outside?" He was halfway down the front stairs before I finished the sentence. I chose to interpret that as a yes.
We went outside and did the usual chalk thing for a little while. He wasn't so much into that, so I assembled the big red wagon that our benefactors from Christmas bought for us. (How amazing is that - that people would actually buy Christmas presents for a boy that they never had - or would - meet? It blows my mind. Particularly considering that the wagon is, like, a $75 item!) The Boy helped out - bringing me the hammer and the screwdriver when I asked, and giving me some of the pieces that he could recognize. It was very cute.
When the wagon was assembled (it took about 10 minutes), we went for a little test-drive down to the neighbor's driveway and back. The Boy was a little nervous at first, but quickly broke into a HUGE smile and bounced a bit in his seat. (The wagon has little seatbelts, too, which is awesome.) I took him out of the wagon in the garage, and he climbed right back in.
So, I loaded him up in the wagon with a hat and a piece of chalk (plastic is okay to draw on), and off we went! We walked about a quarter-mile down the block to the local Quickchek and went inside. I got myself some iced coffee. When I turned around, The Boy was carrying a big thing of Pringles to me. He and I negotiated a bit and compromised on the smaller "Grab 'n' Go" sized Pringles in the flavor that he chose. The Boy handed it to the cashier himself (generating many smiles from onlookers), and we got back into the wagon. I opened the Pringles, and on the way home ate about half. The Boy ate most of the rest and sprinkled chips liberally on the floor of the wagon.
He asked for some of my iced coffee on the way home. I figured, "Well, he doesn't really like regular coffee, I'll give him a sip and he'll not ask again." More fool, I. He loved it. I drank quickly so I didn't feel obligated to share, but I did give him two more sips. (Don't kill me, my lovely wife...)
We walked back, The Boy riding happily in the wagon, pointing out various items in the landscape. We got back, went inside, and he is happily tearing up the downstairs as I blog. The most interesting thing is how much he enjoys picking up a set of drumsticks and banging the top of a box of letter-sized envelopes. Weird kid; definitely gets it from my wife.
Now, I'm going to change a poopy diaper.