Swipe-a-thon

Because I am two, which makes me a big, awesome kid, I was invited to participate in the learning center's annual trike-a-thon for the first time this week. Parents were also invited to join in the festivities, which might have been oversold. Yeah, there were streamers and everything, but the track was really just a chalk outline going around the playground with Mr. Michael holding up a stop sign when kids got mid-way through.

As you may know, I love my tricycle. I'm pretty much the Oprah of the learning center and my tricycle makes my favorite things list every year. Of course, heavy is the head that wears the construction truck helmet. Whether it really was the coolest tricycle present or whether its association with me gave it street cred, my wheels were hot properties.

I'm still new to pedaling and needed plenty of pushes from my mom but I'm also glad she was there because I practically needed a bodyguard. I had a trail of kids chasing my trike and asking when it would their turn to ride it.

Now, if I ran the world, none of those kids would have ever had a turn but, for some reason, I don't and my mom let other kids hop on and off when my interest waned. In those moments, I was torn between being sad about my loss and being excited that I had the opportunity to borrow someone else's ride.

No, this isn't my tricycle.
Yes, that is a kid with a full-on Blind Melon
Bee Girl costume under her coat to my right.

I was long over the trike-a-thon at about the 20 minute mark but pushed on for a full hour because I wasn't interested in relinquishing my wheels to anyone else. Only the selfish survive and I have to look out for the Bear.

And you may ask yourself, "Where is that large tricycle?"
And you may tell yourself, "This is not my beautiful scooter!"

And THIS I'm supposed to appreciate?

Today was the parent appreciation breakfast at the learning center. Parents were offered full sized donuts, bagels, and coffee to enjoy while their sap kids ate donut holes. Although I was given a seat and a bite to eat and asked to wait for her, I followed my mom into the office with the parents' treats.

I knew I didn't have long before being escorted out of the small room. I grabbed anything I could. My mom swatted me away from a sprinkle donut. She took my hand out of the bowl of sugar packets. Luckily, she was not fast enough to keep me from pulling her coffee off of the buffet table and onto myself and the floor. Score one for The Bear!

I will ruin your shirt, your floor, and your mood.

I wasn't burned but I was pretty embarrassed that, after cleaning the floor and returning to our table, my mom told me that I would not be changed into a fresh shirt until after the meal because I was "going to get messier, anyway".

As if she hadn't embarrassed us both enough, my mom put a cherry on top of the whole morning by congratulating the wrong Amelia's dad on the arrival of a new daughter.

By 8:00, I was over it and pushing her out the door. Hopefully, I was fast enough and no one realized she was with me.