Who wears the pants?

Evidently, I jinxed myself with the title of yesterday's post. Today was just an ordinary day, Gabe and I had a few errands to run after lunch. The last on the list was Hobby Lobby and it was pushing his usual afternoon nap time but I thought I could just quickly run in and out. This plan of action has worked for me countless times before without incident, and usually gets him to sleep for longer because he is worn out. He wanted to get down and walk, which he often does now. Usually he will just stand next to me and hold my leg when he is somewhere unfamiliar. Apparently, you shouldn't place bets on the predictability of one year old behavior. We were in the stamp section and the ink just happens to be at eye level for a lightening fast one year old. Before I knew it, he had picked up a bottle of ink, which either was leaking before he picked it up or maybe he just squeezed it. Its all kind of a blur. Black ink was everywhere. I quickly grabbed it from him and he grabbed me. Black ink twice as much as everywhere.Then, the screaming started. Because I took away the ink. The two other women who were in the aisle pretended not to notice us but when the the screaming escalated to the eardrum piercing level, they decided they didn't really need any stamps anyway and left. Fortunately, I had diaper wipes in my purse which cleaned up most of it before it went to his face, but not before he grabbed my face and inked me, which I didn't discover until I got to the car. Clearly, the message he is sending is that nap time is for naps, not shopping. If you see me tommorow and my hands look dirty you know why.

He doesn't look like a screamer, but trust me, he can wail like a fire engine.