I picked the girls up from day school. In the back of my car was a small backpack (or “pack-pack” as Bun calls it) full of toys. It’s a random collection of things that Monkey picked out for our recent grocery shopping trip. (None of which got played with at the grocery store, BTW.)
Bun pulled out her devil ducky, a present that DearDR brought back from his Seattle trip, and another, smaller ducky to play with on the 5-minute ride home.
All the car windows were open. That’s how we roll.
I don’t know exactly what happened, but suddenly Bun was crying about “the other ducky”. She still had her devil ducky, but other had suddenly gone missing.
I queried Monkey over Bun’s screams about the location of other ducky. I was hoping it was on the floor.
Nope. Bun had — whether on purpose or by accident — sent it flying out the window.
She was heartbroken. She cried and cried (and screamed) for other ducky. She clearly thought I was going to stop the car and rescue other ducky. I had no such intentions. If you’re going to throw something out the window — even by accident — you are going to lose it. Sorry.
Monkey did an amazing job of ignoring her sister (something we are actively teaching her) the rest of the ride home. And that took some doing because Bun was overwrought. I told her we would get another other ducky when we got home. She didn’t care.
Once at home, I let Monkey out of the car. She wandered over to Bella’s house, as is her wont; I went to get Bun and my stuff out of the car.
When I put Bun down after helping her climb (hitting, kicking, and screaming the whole time) out of her seat, she took off down the driveway. Devil ducky was still clutched in one hand, and she was still crying out for other ducky.
And, darn it all, she was going to go rescue that other ducky.
I chased her down our gravel driveway trying not to laugh. I mean, the thought of it — Bun running all the way back to where she dropped other ducky — was hysterical. But it was awfully frustrating that she was — yet again — running away from me.
I wrangled her into the house. I even handed her another other ducky — identical to the one she had lost out the window. I could tell she knew it wasn’t really other ducky, and she was deciding whether or not to continue to be upset. Eventually, as I readied dinner, her crying tapered off. She even picked out a third ducky to play with.
She had two more meltdowns that night, requiring time outs and “calm down” breathing (for both of us). I suspect short nap times at day school are to blame.
I’ll tell you though, if I come across other ducky on the way home any evening soon, I may just pull over and pick that poor sucker up.