Uh Oh

My nineteen month old daughter, Lovey, is just starting to talk. You probably don't care, but you know what? Not everything is about you. She's got words like "baby," "baba," "bow wow" (at least I think that is what she's saying), "more," "boots," "poops," "dah-dee," "ba-oons," and the always popular amongst the youth: "no." (Yes, I am aware that "mommy" is not on the list. Thanks). Her favorite, however, has to be "uh oh." Fun to say and fun to do. Sweet Pea, who will be four-years-old soon, also loved "uh oh." She used to whip things across the room and then, very innocently, exclaim "uh oh" as in: "What just happened?" Lovey isn't quite the bruiser that Sweet Pea was, so although her precision and arm aren't going to win her many stuffed animals at the State Fair, the inevitable "uh oh" outcome is still very much the same.

Lovey is currently at the age and stage where, if there is a shopping cart available at the store, we could go either way. In a hurry? Need a lot of stuff? Ass in cart. Got some time? Only need a few things? I usually let her stroll. I only needed two things at Michaels craft store so I felt strolling would be OK. That is because I'm stupid.

There she was, dropping paintbrushes and boxes of chalk, all the while happily
exclaiming"uh oh" like she did something really impressive. It's not that impressive. I can do that too. Sometimes the "uh oh" would come out during the actual drop, but sometimes it would come out after the item would hit the floor. Either way, annoying--and also, Newsflash: IT ISN'T AN "UH OH" WHEN YOU'RE THE ONE DROPPING THE ITEM.

But there I was: Backtracking every few seconds to bend over and pick up whatever Lovey chose as her next victim--each and every time to a continuous chorus of shotgun "uh-oh's." At first, I honestly didn't mind. There was a cute guy in one of aisles (yeah, I also asked myself why a guy was at Michaels--I feel like that's not really a guy place) who totally thought we were the most adorable mother/daughter team ever. I was still OK with it as some lady and her daughter looked over because I know she was reminiscing about the days when her daughter was that age, and I know one day I will be like that too. But then, some other lady and one of her friends smiled at us and I wasn't into them at all, they looked weird, so I told Lovey I was done.  At this point, my back was killing me and I really didn't care if freakin' Eminem was there to witness the cuteness of the "uh oh." I was over picking up stuff and trying to figure out where the hell it was supposed to go and I just wanted Rainman to zip it.  They pack a lot of stuff into that Michaels store. I was done.

But Lovey wasn't.

The little pack of Doodle Alphabet Scrapbook Stickers never had a chance. I tried to stop her but everything was happening so fast and I seemed to be moving in slow motion. My protest of "Noooooooooooooo" came out small and defeated as Lovely shot me a look of "What chu gonna do about it, madre?" With a powerful smirk and an "uh oh" that was almost a whisper, those scrapbook stickers were on the ground before they knew what hit them. "Uh oh! Uh oh! Uh oh!" repeated Lovey. And as I breathed out a big sigh, wishing someone would have left an empty cart in the aisle, I moved away from the scrapbook stickers. Yes, you caught me. I left them there, alone and on the floor, awaiting someone better than me to help them find their way back to their scrapbook sticker home. I was tired and I was done so I guess I must have missed that one. "Uh Oh."