Had to go to the Post Office to get some stamps for my mom’s b-day card. Asked K2 (2 1/2 years old) if he wanted to see the mailman. Agreed. The twins stayed at home with daddy to celebrate their 6 mo. old, mommy at work, and I got out of the house, holding his little hand. He is carrying a plastic container with a lid, fresh from the dishwasher. I don’t mind.
“You’ll be in the stroller,” I apprise the young man. I get the vehicle from the garage and try to lift the top in a sitting position. I don’t know how. I push and pull, and look under it to find a button or something. The little boy tries to help as well. In vain.
“You have to lie down,” I inform my subordinate. He wants to see the mailman anyway and he listens to me. Then off we go. He keeps opening and closing the lid on top of the container while we go down the hill. We cross the street and walk in the newly remodeled Post Office. Now he is allowed to sit up and watch the mailman as we are waiting in the line. When we get to the counter, I tell the postman he has an admirer. They wave at each other, I pay for the stamps and we are out the door. The little guy closes his eyes. I can see the plastic container gets heavy in his hand. “Well, you don’t fall asleep in the stroller. You sleep in your bed.”
He stays awake. He saw the mailman.
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