Kira went to her first Oakton basketball game this afternoon. She was on her best, 'sit like a doll in the car seat', behavior the whole time. Max was fairly well-behaved, considering his constant urge to rush the court, steal the ball, and play. He managed to keep his feet off the court for 99% of the game, but spent plenty of time screaming across it. "Daddy, daddy, daddy," he yelled, and after no response, "David, David, I have to talk to you about something!" What did he need to talk to his daddy about? "My shirt." If that isn't grounds for a time-out, what is?
At the end of the game, Max was allowed to play a bit, but when it came time to leave he made no secret about his displeasure. Thank goodness for the kindness of stangers, especially those who pushed Kira's stroller to the car, so Max's mom had both arms to wrangle his screaming, flailing body to the car.
Two pre-game car naps + a drive-through = a coffee break for mommy
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