Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Just a Walk

What's a nanny to do with 3 kids under the age of 6 plus a pup on a BEAUTIFUL day when the backyard just won't do?

Well, take them on a walk, of course!

We've done it a million times. They know the drill. We walk. We pick up interesting bugs and leaves and sticks. We terrorize our siblings while staying close to Devyn. We discuss for the 857 millionth time when it's ok to cross a street and when it's not. They've got it down.

So as I'm commanding bathroom attempts from the little ones, locating shoes, and attaching an overexcited boxer pup to his leash, I'm picturing a (relatively) leisurely late afternoon stroll around the neighborhood...

 

My hopes were almost immediately dashed, of course, with the freakishly energetic dog pulling with all his might against the small, old school leash, which as luck would have it, was wrapped around my unsuspecting, slightly weaker wrists. This necessitated me walking at a 45 degree angle for the duration of the walk, with the pup's exertion and mighty pull at the other end of the leash keeping me from toppling to the ground in certain humiliation.

The boys, meanwhile, were both in a highly competitive fancy and were walking at greater and greater speeds so as to pass the other and be "first place" until they were all but running down the road. No plea nor threat nor offer of money and candy would get them to abandon their pursuits of victory and stay near me.

Sis, on the other hand, had chosen fashion over utility and insisted on wearing her plastic Disney princess dress-up heels as her footwear of choice on our trek. After a lengthy debate, I had insisted she bring "back up shoes" of a more sturdy variety on the walk as well, as I was certain the heels would be short-lived. So, outfitted in her own choosings, she clop-clop-clopped behind 45 degree me and the pup, clutching her sneakers and refusing on principle to admit that Miss Devyn was right and heels are from Satan.

We got nearly to the neighborhood pool (slightly less than half a mile, maybe) before Sis could bear the heels no further and wanted to switch out for her sneakers, the boys had fallen victim to the "I WILL CALL YOUR FATHER IF YOU DON'T STOP NOW!" threat I resorted to and stopped half-heartedly at a corner, and my hand was nothing more than a purple and white striped bloodless appendage with a leash wrapped tightly around it.

The pup was still having a large time though.

After Sis's shoes were changed, I announced we were going to walk back in the direction of the house. Since, ya know, pediatric listening ears and adult sanity were running low.

So... Sis marched obediently toward the homestead, clutching her heels and on a mission. Brother took off giggling mischievously around the corner and into oblivion, intent on keeping "first place" and my nerves frazzled. And Buddy, well Buddy inexplicably wrapped himself around the stop sign and began licking it, a la A Christmas Story, for absolutely no logical reason in the world. And the pup, energized anew with All The Agendas, put me instantaneously and painfully back in my 45 degree stance, somehow slicing my hand with the leash in the world's most epic leash-burn. Blood included.




Moral of the story: your mom was right when you were little... If you leave the backyard, it's ridiculously dangerous.

For the nanny too.