Tunnel Love

"He was waiting for a tunnel!" Pop laughed.

Nana and Pop thought Shane was constipated.

He wasn't. He was holding out for a special occasion.

Nana and Pop called me to arrange the hand-off. Shane spent the night with them Monday. It was time to come home and Kathleen and Cole's flight arrived tonight, so Nana and Pop wanted to meet up somewhere fun on their way to the airport.

Chic-Fil-A.

After demanding a balloon, Shane ran up into the play tunnels.

"It's starting to stink in there!" Nana laughed. "Should you go up and get him?"

"No one's crying yet," I replied.

We all sat down outside and waited. The trick is Shane gets bored and will look for his audience.

"He ate a lot of fruit today," Pop said.

"Here it is!" I said.

There are some thing you can count on: God, taxes, death, and Shane to use a playground as his muse. I snuck in and snatched my son when he came down the slide.

Nana, Pop, and I parted ways and I strapped my squishing son into his car seat.

When we got home I assessed the damage.

"Nana, I'm calling to let you know that it got in his socks." I said.

She laughed and laughed.

"It went down his pants, in his socks, and up his back!" I'd have talked longer, but Shane was already running around the shower.

"He was waiting for a tunnel" indeed!