I am allowed to brag…

I am a Mum. I am allowed to brag…a bit. No? The other day we were out walking. I was pushing M-pants in the baby buggy and Johnny brought his scooter. He is just starting to get good on it, but he doesn’t know how to brake. We paused at the top of his uncle’s driveway.

He wanted to go down — but I was too worried. It was too steep. I said he couldn’t. How could I guide him on his scooter and guide M-pants in the buggy? No. It was impossible. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave M-pants up on the street and guide Johnny down the driveway. I couldn’t manage guiding them both down the driveway.

I told him he needed to be in control on the way down, otherwise, he would fall and break his head (even though he was wearing a helmet). “Tu vas casser ta tête.” I couldn’t help him. We should just carry on the way we were going.

He paused for a second–still determined to go down the driveway. “Marche Maman. Marche.” (Walk Mummy. Walk.)

I was stunned. S-T-U-N-N-E-D. He is two years old…and a little bit. He solved the problem. He saw another solution.

We proceded to walk down the driveway. I pushed the buggy. He pushed his scooter.

Not only is he cute, he is smart too!