Pride Comes Before What Again?

A few weeks ago, I had a morning of insanity with the two girls and decided, on a whim, to drive to a nearby town to see what I could discover.

Despite leaving without directions or a clear purpose, remarkably, I didn't get lost. (Yes, I know, this should easily shock some of you).

I found a Chick-Fil-A, which was a ridiculously good thing since, in a sudden lapse of keen sense, I promised Bean a good ole fashioned lunch and play time there... despite not having any earthly idea where one was. It could have been ugly. Anyway, I guess "found" is a good word. I really was trying to find a main highway and practically ran over the drive-thru. (Why is it not a drive-through? DRIVES ME NUTS).

Anyway, we did lunch, ran an errand, and since everything was going so swimmingly, I decided to hit up a store that I had a gift card for. (My grasp of the concept of "pushing my luck" seems to be lacking still).

The girls were remarkably well-behaved and I got some clothes with the gift card. Heck, I got to try ON the clothes. I was flying high on my parenting success. Took two kids out? Check. Fed the toddler lunch? Check. Allowed her some playtime? Check. Went shopping? Check. Averted tantrums from either kid? CHECK CHECK! Nice!

Before we left the store parking lot, I had to feed C so that she could nap on the way home. I settled Bean down in her seat with some books, got C, and headed to the front seat to feed her. All the while I'm thinking, "Man, I've got this parenting two kids thing DOWN! I rock!"

She finished eating and I hopped out of the car into the parking lot to put her in the back seat. Since feeding the baby tends to put some kinks in my back, I shifted her to the other shoulder and stretched my back and my arm.

And then I froze.

As I had moved her from my left side to my right, I felt a decidedly cool breeze on an area of my body that I did NOT want to be displaying for all of the happy shoppers in the parking lot. And yet? There I was.

Hastily, I yanked things in order again, put C in her car seat, and squealed out of the parking lot like a crazed Nascar driver. (Ok, ok, I drove out carefully and slowly... while wearing a hat pulled low over my burning face).

Note to self: (Can there be just one lesson in this story? I think not.) Babies make your brain go soft. Proceed with caution.