Sound of rapidly approaching plastic wheels on the kitchen floor tile comes from behind.
That’s my ankle, buddy.
maniacal laughter from the toddler.
Still my ankle.
That is a pain beyond words you’re inflicting there.
Thud, laugh, thud
There’s this thing that happens to parent’s memory. You see, when your brother learned to walk your mother and I were so excited. Then he started running and we could never catch him. You came along and we forgot all about those first few months of what having a mobile child was like. I am recalling now why our enthusiasm waned quickly.
toddler pauses his laughter and cart smashing when he sees I’m making dinner
You can’t have any of this yet.
toddler resumes running cart into my ankles
I’m not negotiating with a pint sized terrorist. You can wait for dinner.
More forceful thud, louder laughter.
I’m ‘disappearing’ the cart.