Dorothy and I had to run errands today. I have a hard time running errands that involve me taking the baby out of her car seat more than once, and this particular day's errands involved two stops. I only agreed to do it because I essentially contribute nothing to our household so when Air asks a favor of me I try to accommodate him.
I hopped in the shower at the crack of noon, realizing that I'd have to take all of the kids with me if I didn't get on it. After Dorothy and I were dressed I cooed to her that it was time to put her shoes on. She ran away from me. I assumed she was hiding from me. Ugh, why can't Ariel just let me hold down the sofa. Be the hermit I was meant to be? Why do I have to go out with children? Why do I have to spend my life chasing babies? While I reflected on the unfair hand life dealt me, Dorothy came back with a pair of shiny black sling back five inch pumps in her hands. SHOES! I have to admire the girl for thinking they were a good choice to visit the ladies at Bank of America and First Niagara and felt a little bad as I buckled her Mary Janes for her.
Fifteen months old! Fifteen years old should be interesting!