Mom-E would've argued that after all of the screaming, whining, chaos, poor directions from the organizer, and getting lost, they could've dropped the "fun" part and perhaps added "away as fast as you can if you're a parent" after the word "run".
But she made it to the race with 3 live children (I left early to
Big Brother was totally siked about the race. He had his Iron Man shoes velcro'd up tight, his race bib pinned to his shirt, and a hand decked out in temporary tattoos.
Little Brother on the other hand, was a little "slower" to come around. And by "slower", I mean he refused to stand on his own two feet, wanted Mom-E to carry him, didn't want to wear socks, and definitely didn't want anything pinned to his shirt.
Meanwhile, Bab-E Brother was content to explore the wonderful world of curbs, and to walk and spin in circles.
A few minutes later, the announcer called the kids to the start line. Fortunately, Little Brother by this time had let his guard down enough that he was fully dressed, though still insisting on being carried.
Mom-E's attempts to encourage Little Brother to ambulate on his own accord were an exercise in futility.
And so, being the wonderful Mom-E that she is, Mom-E did a
She carried Little Brother...
The whole way...
While carrying her purse. (Only because I was off trying to make sure Bab-E Brother didn't wander out into the road.)
Fortunately, the "fun run" was quite short in distance.
Big Brother zoomed around the course and completed the loop in 3rd place.
And bringing up the back of the pack was "Purse-Carrying Mom-E", jockeyed by Little Brother.
Of course, after the race was over, Little Brother finally started to "warm-up", no doubt helped by the snacks and drinks served afterwards (it's very tiring to have your Mom-E carry you around everywhere).
Way to go Mom-E, you're nobler than I.
Way to go Little Brother, ye manipulator of adult behavior.
See you on Fatherhood Friday,