Missing Shoes

It was the funniest thing yesterday. Cindy was with us at Chick-Fil-A and Cole went up into the play place with his shoes on. I told Cindy, that's fine, as long as he comes DOWN with them! 

And whadaya know, here he comes a few minutes later with no shoes. Inside I'm freaking out as I imagine myself contorting my body and making my way up the teeny tiny stair openings to retrieve the lost Nikes but on the outside I just calmly ask him to go find his shoes. He scampers back up and while he's still on the stairs, Cindy and I witness this. 

First one shoe and then the other make their way down the slide, all alone, with no sign of the heroic rescuer. We thought it was so hilarious and were overjoyed to have the footed treasure back safely in our possession, knowing we could stay rooted on solid ground. 

Oh the joys...!

As a sidenote: I had planned to go to chick-fil-a alone with the kids but Cindy called at just the right time to be invited along. As I was standing in line with a heavy baby carrier and a wailing two year old's hand (because he couldn't go play right away), I asked myself what was I thinking? I couldn't do this alone! And that's when Cindy walked in and "angels started singing", as Julie said when I relayed this story (she must have similar experiences with Cindy). We were saved. Cole's tears dried up and mine did too, though figuratively. Cindy took him to play and I ordered our food and all was set right in the world. Whew!