Now with words... lots and lots of whining words.
(I found it rather alarming to walk by someone in a mask like that)
(the back door of our local independent toy store)
* * *
This is our last week of Sugar D working in Toronto. It is proving interminable. It's like the end of the week is an asymptote that we will forever approach and never reach.
I don't think it helps that Swee'pea has suddenly become a full-blown two-year-old (by the behaviour not by the numbers). This morning we left the house late with me already lathered in a sweat from the number of times I had to wrangle with him -- to change his diaper, put pants, shirt and socks on, take him upstairs so I could put pants, shirt and socks on myself, wrangling him downstairs to gather stuff into bags and get both our shoes, coat and toques on and out the door, all to a loud and near constant chorus of "No! No! No!"
And yesterday, Sugar D spent a record six hours in transit... he blames the bus driver who was new and apparently not yet initiated into the secret short-cuts the other bus drivers use to meet their arrival times.
I never imagined this week would be so painful.