I was reminded of the famous poem by Shel Silverstein whose title I borrowed for this post tonight. We went out shopping with Munchkin tonight, looking to pick up a few things for Christmas. We went to one local shop in hunt of a shopping cart for Munchkin, as she is loving containers at this point. If you can put something in it, or take something out of it, Munchkin is hooked. We didn't have any luck.
Instead of calling the night a total bust, we decided to go to a book store on the way home. The store has a decent children's section, but at this point, the main draw for Munchkin is this round rack of stuffed animals. Last time we stopped there, Munchkin grabbed a siberian tiger (a good choice, I might add) and carried it around with her for about 45 minutes while we browsed through various shelves.
Tonight she found the same tiger in a different color. She picked it out of the rest of the items immediately and started carrying it around, but lost interest after about five minutes or so. I guess it is safe to say that Munchkin likes black and white more than tan. As she was looking for other options to play with, I found a stuffed snake that was probably about four feet long. I put the snake around her neck like a feather boa, and she thought that was pretty great. Some kids started to come over and look at books, so she got quickly distracted. With her distracted (and with Wifey's approval), I snuck away to look at some things besides kids books that might catch my eye.
After about a half an hour of perusal, I headed back to find Wifey and Munchkin to see how things were going. I saw Munchkin meandering her way through some racks, so I ducked behind a shelf and waited until I could ambush her. As she drunkenly stumbled my way (while looking the other way as she is currently prone to do), I growled and jumped out. She squealed with delight and started running back to her mom.
Munchkin kept running around through the empty shelves, giggling as I was walking behind her and occasionally pinching or tickling her shoulders or sides. Munchkin kept looking over her shoulder to make sure that I was following her, and if I started lagging behind to take a peek at a book, she would slow down as well to do the favor of letting me catch up. I didn't see any patrons perusing the aisles, but in hindsight, maybe they were scared off by the squeals of delight of a little girl and the over-dramatic roars of her father.
After Munchkin navigated multiple different paths through the aisles and returned repeatedly to her home base (Wifey who was now finding books for Christmas for Munchkin), I could tell that Munchkin was getting a bit tired. She was easier to keep up with and wasn't peeking over her shoulder as much. Hoping to distract her, I steered her toward the stuffed animals.
And the best part was the fact that Munchkin read my mind.
Munchkin immediately grabbed a snake like I had grabbed earlier and attempted to arrange it around her neck. After some help from me, she walked around the same aisles for another fifteen minutes babbling happily and proudly displaying her boa draped over her shoulders.
It was getting late, so we had to put the boa back on the shelf. Munchkin immediately started to complain, so I picked her up and tried to distract her with something else closer to the front of the store. As I scooped her into my arms and bent down to whisper something in her hear, I realized that the side of my face was wet from her sweaty brow. Driving home, Wifey informed me that Munchkin was walking or running around the whole time I was browsing on my own. that means that she definitely got her aerobic exercise in for the day.
We got home, changed a soggy diaper, put on jammies, fed her a bottle, and she was ready for bed. She didn't get to sleep with a boa constrictor tonight, but I have a feeling that she might dream of one who accompanies her through the jungle tonight.
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