Mood Swings

Thursday was yet another day of naplessness for good ol’ Bastien. Prompting me to enroll him in a 1:30-3:30 program called “Terrific Twos” that starts next week. That’ll show him! (Sidenote, when I called to inquire the director actually slipped and called the class “Terrible Twos.” I did not correct her.)

Back to the story at-hand. When I went in to rescue him from his bedroom, he was trapped inside his overturned laundry basket, making monkey noises. I asked if he wanted me to take him for a walk in the “Cage Stroller,” meaning our behind-the-bike stroller that has a mesh enclosure. He was all about it.

Eventually, he fell asleep in there and slept well after we returned. I sat gloating on the porch, and texted Jim about a celebratory dinner:

Me: Wanna pick up some wings and beer on the way home?

Jim (barely maintaining his composure upon receiving his ultimate fantasy text): Sure!

Three minutes later, Bastien woke up and started throwing The Daily Tantrum.

Remorseful, I had to call Jim back: “Looks like we’re gonna need a keg.”