The passing of time can be measured by expected and familiar events. For example, Dadda knows that in the morning I will have poop waiting for him. Just the other day I had a "situation" waiting for him. After clean-up I was ready to start the day. The next day Dadda decided we would go to the grocery store first thing in the morning. However, he remembered the previous day's "situation" and thought it would be better to avoid something similar in a public place.
So when I woke up there was no poop. After the day prior I guess I just got it all out of my system, over a period of five movements, like a symphony! Stay tuned for Josh's fifth symphony in a Diaper Genie near you!
Anyway, Dadda was a bit mystified by the lack of routine, but insisted we wait until after I did my business before we would leave to run our errands. The morning dragged on and turned to midday and still no poop. Dadda watched me in frustration. Here I was dressed and ready to go out, and so was he. The diaper bag was packed, the snacks were ready and the grocery bags were loaded in the car. Time ticked by and like a watched baby's diapey, nothing happened.
We never made it to the grocery store that day.
Today everything went as scheduled, poop and all, and the grocery store was our destination. Dadda packed up my breakfast in a to-go container. It was beautiful, all layered and filled with variety. The bottom layer was Multi-Grain Cheerios, then Sunkist Fruit snacks and finally a Nutri-Grain Bar bought in bulk by Goomba from Costco cut into eights like I prefer. And the whole thing was cleverly put in a container to keep me from spilling, although Dadda needs something to help him from spilling when he fills the container. Luckily he has me and the fluff to come scoop up the rouge Cheerios from the floor.
We left early and Dadda handed me my breakfast bowl and he placed his coffee in the cup holder of the cart. First we stopped to pickup a prescription, and a nice man with his arm in a sling, let us go in front of him. I was afraid we would get lost, so even though the container was spill proof, I still could drop random pieces throughout the store in order for us to find out way out, and that's just what I did.
By the time we reached the register, once again cutting unintentionally in front of the man with his arm in a sling, I was done with my snacks and ready to help Dadda put groceries on the moving table. You could tell which grocery items I helped with by the stickiness.
Dadda loaded me into the car and the man with his arm in a sling just so happened to be parked next to us and had to wait for me to get into my seat before he could get into his car.
Instead of leaving once he got into his car, I heard the one-armed man yell into his cell phone, "It was not me it was the sticky baybee!"
Today I am an agent of chaos adorable!
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