Taking a Page From Our Lame-Duck

Something funny happened over the weekend, and you'll never guess who the perpetrator was. That's right! My 19-mo old toddler! (How did you guess that? Because I'm that good, you say.) Ok, you had a 50/50 shot, between toddler and husband. And dogs. 25% isn't bad.

I was sitting in my car in front of the house, chatting with my Mom about Important Topic #983. My mother has a predilection for calling me just as I'm pulling up in front of the house. Give me a package or two, a toddler, a purse and a sippy cup, and it gets difficult to de-car and climb the stairs up to our house. Ergo, I tend to sit and finish the conversation in the car. It's also important to note that the toddler car seat is in the passenger's side of the back seat.

Apparently it was taking too long, and apparently, my son is gaining momentum in motor skills. The Bear, in the back seat, starts to fuss. Then he starts to scream. Short, sudden bursts.

So, picture me there, in the driver's seat, in mid-sentence with my Mom, where we're taking turns cutting each other off. Suddenly, a 4-inch long toddler shoe comes FLYING by my face, landing on the floor of the front seat. I turned around, eyes wide, mouth agape. He was grinning at me, a little speechless himself.

Then he started to say, "Duh? Duh?" (as in "Done?" I am now, you crazy shoe-throwing toddler!)

I tried to relay the story to my mom, and could barely contain my shock. Well, that, and she couldn't hear me over her hysterical laughter.