Trevy has a thing for buttons.
More than a thing, really.
An obsession.
If he's surrounded by buttons and books he's a happy boy.
Rewind to yesterday. I was trying to get (the stupid) puppy in the house. So Trevy and I wouldn't be late for his class.
She was resisting. Playfully. Running. And teasing. All fluff and cuteness. And neck. Which I was mentally wringing.
We were at a now...or you're staying outside and I really dont' care if you turn into an ice cube point. When I finally decided to risk the cold with a treat in hand. And bare feet. Because Trevy is still not safe solo on the steps I protectively pulled the door shut behind me. Cooing and calling. Through clenched teeth. And steaming ears.
The puppy licked her lips. Blinked. And continued to insist on playing catch me if you can. Which I couldn't. And told her...fine freeze then!
Turned around.
Marched hotly up the stairs.
I could hear Trevy calling my name (a newbie skill!) and knocking on the other side of the wooden door.
Which I fully intended to yank open. Hoping that the pup would sense my ire and come obediently running inside.
But she couldn't even if she tried.
Cause it seems...
While she was busy pushing my buttons outside...
Trevy was inside pushing some of his own!
Successfully locking the door. And me. Out. Himself. In.
There was a moment of breath stealing panic as I mentally calculated all the various danger factors locked inside with my little bugger. Who was alone. And (quite) capable of getting himself into trouble. But not so capable of understanding the consequences of said trouble. In ways two going on three...in many ways far from. Like being able to lock the door but not open it for instance. I was already choosing which window would be the easiest and safest to shatter.
But then I remembered.
What I do not believe was coincidence.
I had slipped my keys into my pocket absentmindedly.
Wow.
Thank God!
Wobbly kneed me forgot about the (stupid) puppy. Unlocked the door. And swooped up my drooly grinning little bugger. Who had no idea. Why the heck mommy was mushy eyed and squeezing him to pieces.
But mommy did.
Cause I'm sappy for miracles. And sometimes miracles...are finding the keys in your pocket.
ps. Oh...and by the way...the (stupid) puppy decided she was ready to come inside at the very last minute.
More than a thing, really.
An obsession.
If he's surrounded by buttons and books he's a happy boy.
Rewind to yesterday. I was trying to get (the stupid) puppy in the house. So Trevy and I wouldn't be late for his class.
She was resisting. Playfully. Running. And teasing. All fluff and cuteness. And neck. Which I was mentally wringing.
We were at a now...or you're staying outside and I really dont' care if you turn into an ice cube point. When I finally decided to risk the cold with a treat in hand. And bare feet. Because Trevy is still not safe solo on the steps I protectively pulled the door shut behind me. Cooing and calling. Through clenched teeth. And steaming ears.
The puppy licked her lips. Blinked. And continued to insist on playing catch me if you can. Which I couldn't. And told her...fine freeze then!
Turned around.
Marched hotly up the stairs.
I could hear Trevy calling my name (a newbie skill!) and knocking on the other side of the wooden door.
Which I fully intended to yank open. Hoping that the pup would sense my ire and come obediently running inside.
But she couldn't even if she tried.
Cause it seems...
While she was busy pushing my buttons outside...
Trevy was inside pushing some of his own!
Successfully locking the door. And me. Out. Himself. In.
There was a moment of breath stealing panic as I mentally calculated all the various danger factors locked inside with my little bugger. Who was alone. And (quite) capable of getting himself into trouble. But not so capable of understanding the consequences of said trouble. In ways two going on three...in many ways far from. Like being able to lock the door but not open it for instance. I was already choosing which window would be the easiest and safest to shatter.
But then I remembered.
What I do not believe was coincidence.
I had slipped my keys into my pocket absentmindedly.
Wow.
Thank God!
Wobbly kneed me forgot about the (stupid) puppy. Unlocked the door. And swooped up my drooly grinning little bugger. Who had no idea. Why the heck mommy was mushy eyed and squeezing him to pieces.
But mommy did.
Cause I'm sappy for miracles. And sometimes miracles...are finding the keys in your pocket.
ps. Oh...and by the way...the (stupid) puppy decided she was ready to come inside at the very last minute.
Comments
Glad you put the keys in your pocket and even so much more happy that Trevy is saying your name!
C
Thank goodness you had keys with you. But you might want to think of either giving a key to a neighbor or hiding one outside, for future emergencies.
So excited that Trevy is calling you by name!!! That's awesome! Way to go Trevy!!! He's learning fast!
LOVING that Trevy likes buttons...Colby is OBSESSED with ANYTHING that has them!!! (He has called 911 several times....You should hear my explanation!)
But loving even MORE that he's calling for you!!!!!
YAY!!!!!!!!!!
Cyndi