Are you familiar with those days, where the moment-to-moment seems to roll out chaotically, yet, when you package the whole of the experience together it seems a memorable gift? This is precisely the birthday present I gave my friend today.
For starters, I had her birthday month secured wrong in my head. Correct day, but I thought I had another month. Obliviously I called to see if she and her kiddos wanted to join P & I in feeding the ducks at the park. She talked me into hitting up a playgroup before the park. It was there that I foot-in-mouth inquired on her "upcoming" birthday.
As we left the playgroup park-bound, in an act of redemption, I drove through and grabbed fast-food-fajitas (I figured Sonic wasn't conciliatory enough). Once at the park, we toddled towards the river benches. Cautiously guiding two 2-year-olds carrying fountain drinks, a 4-year old in 1/16 inch healed sandals, my 5lb dog Moo-shu, and arms full of Rosa's takeout. We were wary of the approaching geese, as experience had proven them aggressive. We were 5-feet from the bench when we allowed our misgivings to slack as we loosened our protective huddle. It was then that the crippled goose struck. I was setting the bags on the bench when a loud honking and child screeching pierced the air. I turned to see my friends 2-year-old boy being attacked in the stomach by the goose. Motherly instinct kicked in literally, as she kicked then chased the goose away. Quickly we hijacked it the hell out, taking cover behind a flag pole structure with a 3-foot protective wall. Geese & ducks from all directions advanced. As the children and I tossed them bread, in order to curtail their trespass into our refuge, my friend reverted from momma bear to animal-lover lamentations about kicking a crippled goose. Heart-sick she looked up Animal Control, and placed concerned calls on it's behalf. Miraculously, her little 2-year-old tossed his former attacker crumbs, and talked unaffected, as if an over-exuberant puppy had overtaken him. When we ran out of bread, we knew we only had a short window in order to make it away from the river and the ravaging fowl. "Okay kids, we have to race to the playground, run fast."
We finally managed to set down a successful picnic, and enjoyed the sun & company. After lunch the children played wonderfully on the playground. We watched from a nearby bench, as we all but, shrink-couched our skeletons from their closets. Who says you don't need a good venting on your birthday!? But not too worry, before we delved too deep into realms best traversed by a paid professional, momma duty called.
Bathroom bound with a potty training toddler, they didn't quite make it. (And might I add, who engineers the bathroom at a park a good football field distance away from a playground!?) Playtime over, she held his sopping, dripping shoes, and we rallied the troops for departure. In the 5 seconds in which she diverts her attention to call for her 4-year-old, and I gather up my 2-year-old in my arms while holding the leash in my hand, he strips. Bare butt and streaking. We exit, stage left. We leave our audience laughing as we make our way to the parking lot. I sing out a timely Happy Birthday, as we are just about in hysterics ourselves. At the car, she changes him, and we say our goodbyes. Suddenly, I look around panic stricken. "Where is P? I don't see him! Do you see where he went!?" To which she replied amusingly, "Ummm, Janelle? He is in your arms."
Blame it on the sun-exposure....
The thick icing on her cake was a bright red sunburn which revealed late afternoon. A gift that just keeps giving. Fortunately, she loved the packaged experience for its amazing hilarity, and declined my promise to disengage myself completely next year with a simple card.
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