We went to a Whitecaps (minor league baseball for you non-natives) game last night. The thing about minor league games is that they make such an effort for family friendly fun you forget there's baseball going on. Willa and I spent some time at the playground instead of watching the game, as I had hoped we'd do.
For the last 2 days she's kind of been Dr. Willa and Ms. Hide, as in hide from her: hide well, and hide fast. I think the upper molars are destined to arrive soon. Hopefully on that glorious day the moodiness will pass. Before leaving the house there were tears over milk, the wrong song playing on the cd player, and the fact that the yellow crayon was missing.
So. No baseball because I didn't want to, nor had the patience to, endure another crying fit. Instead we spent 20 minutes waiting in line for the bouncy house. It was finally her turn. She jumped and ran and fell like the other kids, all older and bigger. When their 5 minutes were over, the other kids filed out. Willa didn't follow. I told her, "Willa, it's time to get out and let other kids have their turn." She replied, "in a minute."
The other kids and parents who had been waiting in line were not amused. The person working the bouncy house gave me dirty looks as I hissed at her through the netted window, "Willa. Get. Out. NOW."
She jumped with a giant grin - she had the whole place to herself - "in a min-ute!"
One mom sent her twin 7 year old girls in after Willa. They ran to her, and Willa screamed.
I could not go in - the opening of the place was tiny and my greatness with child is fairly great. I nervously looked at the back of the structure while bribing her to get out. No escape hatch, and cookies were not luring her out.
Finally mom of the twins went in and scooped her up.
Willa grinned at me as she got out. "In line again?"
We went back to where Jim was. I handed her to him and walked away for a moment, very enviously eyeing the large beers the vendors had.
It was a rough night in parentville.