Yesterday ended, and I sighed with relief. We didn’t end up in the ER (although we were close several times). I’ll let Wally Ben tell the rest:
Yesterday started off normal. I woke up at around 7:15 and yelled out a little. And then yelled a little more. I guess my mom’s ears weren’t working because it took her a little too long to come into my room, so I was crying when she came in. I could already tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
Then I got in a better mood, and was playing on the floor, and ran to hug her but I ran a little too hard because my lip smashed against her collar bone so I started crying again because I was bleeding and it hurt and all I had wanted was a hug. I think maybe I’ll move to Australia.
Then I went with my mom to the church so she could help with an event, which started off fun until some kid drank from my sippy cup so I couldn’t have it any more. Then I grabbed a cup of red juice she was pouring for the other kiddos, and it was very red, and it poured all down my sweater and onto the floor, and my mom wasn’t very happy. Later at lunch I was eating carrots, and normally I like carrots but I didn’t feel like eating them anymore so I threw them around my tray a little and gave some to Buttercup, and mom wasn’t very happy then either. I bet the moms are happier in Australia.
The food wasn’t all bad all day, since my mom did give me a cookie. I liked the cookie, until I got to a nut. I hated the nut, so I just kept it in my mouth. After a while, I didn’t want it in my mouth, but I didn’t want to swallow it, but I didn’t want my mom to dig it out either, and I didn’t have my stupid sippy cup to wash it down. What a pickle! So I just cried. Next week, I said, I’m going to Australia.
And my lip smashing hug wasn’t my only injury all day, either. I was also playing in my book basket, and leaned back, and ended up tipping over and hitting my head on the shelf behind me and I got a big bump. And I smashed my fingers in a swinging kitchen door at church. And my mom (for reasons unbeknownst to her) was letting me play on the bed while she folded laundry and I stood up, fell backward, and my legs flew over my head so I did a complete flip off the bed and landed face down. The only thing that saved me from bruises there was a few stacks of dog pillows I landed on. It was pretty hairy, though.
There was Italian beef for dinner, and I hate beef. There were extra diaper changes, and I hate diapers. I had to wear my cowboy pajamas. I hate my cowboy pajamas.
It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
My mom says some days are like that.
Even in Australia.
Hey Wally 5, This is your Grandpa Wally 3,
I too have some terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days, and yes you are correct in assuming that they often happen because of MOMS. So I propose that we go to Australia together. I am going to start packing right now then I will pick you up in my truck and we will drive to Australia. Please look in your Mom’s purse for some gas money because I think it is pretty far. But we will have fun finding it and eating cookies and drinking pop from our sippy cups all the way there.
Love Grandpa3
Love, love, love it! Wally Ben you and your momma should think about writing some kids books! I will then use them in my classroom to inspire my writers.
Now Wally Ben–we all have bad days but we survive!! I know you are a survivor so just forget about Australia–you and Grandpa will get homesick and then what?? Santa is coming soon and you don’t want to miss all the presents you will get! So be strong and show Mommy and Daddy that you are one big, brave guy and can overcome this terrible, no good, very bad days!!