Another day, another story

Yes, I'm talking about Coleman again. Why do I keep writing about his escapades? Well, there's two reasons.One is because they take up so much of my life. The other reason is so that one day, when he's all grown and a young father and has a very mischevious little boy of his own and he comes to me complaining, I can hand him these stories and say, "Serves you right." :)

So today I made a "quick" run to Wal-mart. My goal is to always to get through the store before they throw us out. First aisle, Cole decides it's hilarious to push all the shaving cream cans down. He loved the domino affect of pushing the first row and seeing them all crash behind. Immediately in the cart for his first time out. When I finally let him out (I'm running out of room for groceries and him) he thinks it would be a great idea to use his arm to knock off all the baby clothes off the display shelves as we walk past. We wait as he picks them all up and he's back in the cart. A few short minutes later, I have to let him out. I'm literally out of room for him in the cart. As I'm picking out some yummy weight watcher bars for me he decides it would be a great time to empty a display of Nestle ice cream toppings. I really only looked away for 15-20 seconds. We wait while he puts them all back before heading to our nightmare zone, the produce section. I hate taking him into produce. Hate. It. He loves to grab the produce bags and run while they unroll behind him. Well, today we were lucky enough to have an entire roll just sitting there which he promptly knocks to the floor and kicks. The big roll very quickly starts to unrool across the floor. I chase it. Across the produce section to the check out lines. I looked awesome. I know everyone was thinking, "What a great mom." Not. After the bags were rerolled, and the bulk nuts picked up, and the green beans bagged ( I always end up buying stray green beans that he's thrown all over the floor) we successfully made it out of the store. Well, except for the 3 containers of mini oreos we somehow ended up buying at the check out line (I din't even see him put them up there).

The rest of the day went well, for Coleman. Then the evening struck. The kids were all playing outside and Coleman comes in black. Literally black. Face, hands, arms, shirt. "What could he have gotten into that was black?" I ask. Tyson takes one look and says, "your potting soil." I run outside and sure enough, he had dug up all the flowers in two of my containers. The pretty little things were all over the ground. Luckily my kids were outside so I was spared from having to repent tonight for swearing.

I'd like to say, "Let's just go to bed and he'll be better tomorrow." I know, however, that tomorrow will just bring new gray hairs and new stories. One day I'll look back on these days and miss them. One day. For now, he's just so lucky that in between his escapades he's so cute and so much fun.