Monday, July 2, 2012

Target Parking Lot at 100 Degrees

"Honey, we can't go swimming until I get Renaya a new swimsuit and Frederic some flip flops.  Just drop me off at Target and wait in the parking lot.  It'll be quick."

Um...we're talking about buying a swimsuit here, not a gallon of milk.  Kristine made this announcement the minute we drove out of our driveway to drive three hours north to Lake Milacs to enjoy its warm, green, and fishy waters.  Being that I love my wife more than anything this side of the Mississippi, I happily obliged.

Dropping Kristine of at the door of the big box store, I noticed some shade trees across the fairly new parking lot.  The trees were in the middle of one of those concrete parking lot thingamajigs that are there to make the mass of asphalt look nice.  This one was filled with rocks and wood chips.  I drove over to it, opened all the windows and doors to the van, welcoming in the 100 degree heat, and kicked the kids out into the elements.

Laura (8) grabbed a few books, walked over to one of the trees, leaned her back against it, and began to read out loud to whomever would lend an ear.

Jack (3) hopped out of the car with Go-Gurt in hand, took two step, and tripped on the absolutely flat and perfectly level parking lot.  His blue yogurt spurted all over the place, leaving a weepy and dejected little man with a scraped up knee.  I scooped him up as he began to cuss out a crack that he had "tripped on", grabbed the first aid kit, squirted some anti-bacterial gel on the scrape, and slapped a Band-Aid on the spot.  He hopped down and ambled over to Laura, sat down, picked up some rocks, and began throwing them out onto the tar.

Analisse (2) jumped out of her car seat and out onto the lot in one leap.  She ran around for a while, balancing gracefully on the concrete curb.  After a bit, she saw something she wanted and headed for the back of the van.  I watched her go, checked for traffic and turned to Laura who had just asked me how to read a word.

The second I looked away, I heard a thud of metal on skull and a scream.  It wasn't one of those screams where a kid is obviously hurt, but simply a very peed off type of high-pitched yell.  I whipped my head around to see Analisse laid out on her back beside the van, staring up at the metal bumper and yelling at it at the top of her lungs.  I ran over to her and scooped her up into my arms and helped her yell at it, kicking it once, then kissed her head about twenty times.  I finally walked her over to Laura and she sat down beside the other two, still lightly yelling at the van.

I think my kids need two things - glasses and anger management.

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