Boy these kids keep me on my toes. We recently got a little soccer ball for the kids that Weston just absolutely adores. It is shiny and red and it is his little treasure. After nap yesterday the kids decided they wanted to go down to the playground to play on the slides.
So, we put on our shoes and headed out the door. On the way out Weston remembered his red soccer ball and insisted upon bringing it. I reluctantly agreed since we walk and I knew that inevitably I would be carrying it or it would bring some sort of drama along with it.
Oh if I only knew.
The stairs make me nervous (we are on the second floor). As a result, I usually insist upon Weston not having anything in his hands as we descend and he must hold onto the rail. So, Roland has gotten creative in how the ball gets down so that we don't have a meltdown that we have to give up the ball. Roland somehow manages to roll the ball down the steps and have it stop ever so nicely at the base and wait for us. Not wanting to mess with the status quo (Weston is a very routine oriented individual - we get many panic attacks if the status quo is altered in any way) I reluctantly rolled the ball down the hill. I must have super human strength because that silly soccer ball flew down those steps at the speed of light. Any hope of having it stop at the bottom was dashed as I watched it careen like a rocket off of the last step and soar into the parking lot. Great.
We live at the back of the complex and there is a slight but very steady decline straight out to the front of the complex. Conveniently the playground is located at the front so we have a walk down this hill of about a quarter mile. This is a very large complex. So, you can understand my frustration as I see the ball shoot out into the parking lot and begin its journey down this hill.
By a complete stroke of luck the ball gets stuck under a car just in front of our apartment. Go figure though that it is right smack in the middle of the undercarriage. I can't come close to reaching it. I see Weston walk up behind me and I get a great idea. "Hey Weston," I say. "Do you want to go grab that ball under the car?" He smiles and says "okay."
I watched as this cute little body drops to the ground and army crawls under the car. I can hear him grunting as he is pulling himself along on the ground. He reaches the ball and I see him knock it with his arm in my direction. It briefly peeks itself from underneath the car and of course Mommy is slow as can be and I totally miss the ball with my hand. So, it falls right back underneath the car. Weston is clueless as to my slow reaction time and scoots himself back out and dusts himself off. When I tell him I need him to do it again, he adjusts his shirt, fixes his hat on his head, and dives right back under. It was hysterical.
He learns quickly because this time he didn't dislodge it towards me, but rather hit it to the side. Unfortunately, this allowed it to continue its path down the hill. So the chase begins. We must have been the most ridiculous sight ever. This whole time I have Natalie in my arms and she true to history has her hands full of toys as well. I still don't trust Natalie enough to let her walk on her own outside. She reminds me of a wild horse. The minute you let her loose, she darts off at a milllion miles per hour in all directions. So, if we have a specific destination we need to reach, it is just easier to hold her.
Anyway, Weston is in front of me running as fast as his little legs can carry him. I was actually quite shocked. I was jogging at a fast pace and he kept in front of me the entire time. We were always within a step or two's distance of the ball which taunted the poor little boy even more. You could hear his agony as he watched his ball roll and roll and roll and no matter how fast he ran he could not reach it. Like I said before, what a sight we must have been. I wish someone had been secretly watching us and filming the whole thing. It must have been so funny to watch. We have this ball in front, a frantic little boy running for his life after it, and a mom carrying another little one with her hands full of toys running as fast as she can to keep up with the ball and her son. Natalie's poor little head was flopping all over the place.
I can see the body of a defeated little boy as Weston's body starts to slump and he begins to slow down as he tires and the ball gains even more speed. The ball veers to the right and heads right for a storm drain. The storm drains here are scary. They have the biggest holes I have ever seen and don't have any gates on them. Every time I walk past them I am afraid I am going to lose a child to them. I know the ball is gone. I can feel myself getting frustrated. We just got this ball. I don't want to have to buy another soccer ball. We don't have the money. He will just have to go without. I didn't want to bring the dumb thing anyway. He is going to be so heart broken.
By a pure miracle, the ball gets stuck. I know we are lucky so as we approach the storm drain I tell Weston not to touch it but that I will get it out. Last thing I want is for the ball to get pushed down into the drain. It is barely clinging on. Any pressure and we lose it. I grabbed it from behind and slowly remove it from the gaping hole. Hallelujah! It is rescued. I carried it the rest of the way to the playground with no protest from Weston. He was one happy boy.
What drama! I vote we leave the ball behind next time - like I did this time. :)
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