Last night, Patrick hadn’t been out of the house all day, whereas I had been out of the house most of the day for a trip to the Smithsonian (more on that later). When he proposed a walk, I didn’t want to load the boys into the wet stroller, so we opted for a family walk with everyone propelling themselves. It was hilarious and awesome.
Seamus came close to pitching a fit when we turned left at the end of the drive rather than turning right. And then he didn’t want to walk on Meridian, but he came around when he realized that Gilbert was holding my hand and Patrick’s hand. He didn’t want to be left out, so he lined himself up behind Gilbert, grabbed hold of my hand and Patrick’s hand and walked lockstep behind Gilbert.
The funny walking lasted until we encountered some pine cones, at which point the boys picked them up and tried to “crunch” them, which means stepping on them on the sidewalk. These pine cones didn’t crunch, and when they asked why, we told them it was because they were wet. (It had rained all day yesterday until I got home around five.)
The next moment of entertainment came as we attempted to cross the street to go down another street. Gilbert has been trying to learn how to jump off of a small ledge onto the ground. The curb was too good an opportunity to resist! He kept trying to jump off, holding his pine cones and with no help! “Gilbert jump by self!” Ok. Mostly he exaggerates his knee bend and then kind of steps off the curb. Seamus enjoyed the game too, adding sound effects “Bah-am!” and Gilbert eagerly took up the call. We let them jump for a while and then we said we had to cross.
On the other side, they got on the side walk and immediately began running down the sidewalk chanting, “run, run, run! run, run, run!” Gil had buckled down and was doing his fast waddle/run, and Seamus is starting to lengthen his stride and run more like an adult, but they were running in their flip flops and having the best time. Gilbert’s cheeks still shake when he runs. They stopped only long enough to point out the basketball hoops people had in their driveways and to assess whether or not there was a net.
As we made the return trip home down our street, they ran in the grass, pointed out the “dirty truck,” said a red car on the street was “Granny’s car,” declared a van not ours, and ran, ran, ran some more. It was a perfect walk; I think I laughed pretty much then entire time–except for when Gil didn’t want to hold my hand as we crossed the street.