i would have the best reality show of them all.

i really would have the best reality show ever produced. 

first, my children are pretty funny, but aren't they all? kids really have the funniest little minds and no filter which is kind of like listening to a drunk person talk, but less obnoxious because they are actually pretty smart. and aren't trying to hit on you. 

today, as we went to the grocery store, i was bee-bopping along to the radio, the sun was shining, cora had taken a long nap, and i was loving life. i drive the .57 seconds from the house to the grocery store, and start getting the kids out.

{i need to pause here for some back story. i changed cora and 5 minutes later was in the car. i did not bring a diaper. because we live .57 seconds from the grocery store and i needed like 10 items. i also like to tempt fate every chance i get. i. am. wild. continue.......}

i grab cora and as i am putting her in the sling i feel something....wet. which is never ever a good sign when you are handling a baby. i look at my hand and there is poop everywhere. 

no worries. i am always prepa.....ooh snap. 

i lay her in the back and take off her pants and diaper (which, btw has never ever sprung a leak. ever.) and wipe girlfriend down. as i am wiping poop from behind her ear i realize i don't hear my other little spawn. 

the parking lot is dead empty and because it's the grocery store on our installation it's always pretty empty and people drive super slow. still, we are in a parking lot where cars drive. 

i look up and see her about 5 {empty} spaces over. mother of the year, right here. i tell her to get er hiney back over here in my most authoritative voice i can muster, and she starts running. 

let me lay this equation out for you:

3 year old + running + cobblestone-ish pavers = you guessed it, a trip and a fall. 

i am still elbow deep in slime, so i tell her to take a deep breath, stop screaming and walk over to me. i make sure she isn't really hurt, demand she stop screaming like a banshee comfort her for a second and go back to trying to clean cora, when i hear her screech even louder. i'm not sure screech is the word. girlfriend is very shrill. 

"IT BURNS SOOOOOO BADDDD!!!!! IT BURNNNNNSSSSS!!!!"

"what burns!?" i say super calmly and rationally hiss. 

"my PEEEE PEEEEEE!!!!" she screams, as she shows me the stream of pee running over her scrapes.....

finally done cleaning cora, i take her soaked undies off of her (fortunately i had the forethought to make her wear a skirt. just not bring extra clothes. since this was a quick trip) and toss them in the bag with cora's diaper, and drag a half naked baby and an undie-less 3 year old into the grocery store, running to the diaper aisle. i grab a bag of pull ups and start looking for cora's size. what size is she in? i don't even know...she hasn't been in a "real" diaper since she was about 3 weeks old. i finally figure she is a size 3 based on the size 4 diaper weight, and then quickly realize there are no size 3 diapers. none. i grab the cheapest bag of size 4's i can find and we run to the register (again, naked baby, half naked 3 year old....), buy the diapers and run to the bathroom. 

i can NOT make this stuff up. 

we continue our trip and get everything we need relatively event less after that. 

moral of the story: the quicker you think something will take, the more will go wrong. 

needing to redeem my day, i put bella to work washing dishes.