I should have known better than to bring Late Afternoon Charlie out in public. I really should have known better than to bring Late Afternoon Charlie to your Starbucks where you were clearly already having a busy day. I thought he would be OK because clearly I have lost my mind.
I should not have let him see his cup of milk before I was ready to give it to him. I shouldn't have pushed the straw issue so hard. Had I given up sooner there would have been much less milk to clean up and much less ungodly screaming.
I should have just shared my coffee cake with him instead of hiding it in my purse and taking little bites when he wasn't paying attention. I should have known that it couldn't last, that he would see one bite go in my mouth and demand to have some in that adorable loud way he has when he is tired and being forced to sit in one place and drink milk from a cup.
And when he started doing that "limp baby" thing as a means of sliding to the ground outside so he could pick up cigarette butts and rearrange all the deck furniture, I should have known it was time to go instead of insisting to you "He's FINE!" as he got his head stuck in the arm of a chair and screamed until I freed him. Twice.
One day you may understand the itchy feeling of desperation to leave the house that sets in around 3:00. How it makes you do things you wouldn't normally do, like push a manic almost one-year old around Target for an hour, mouth hanging slack, eyes wild, and then leave without buying anything. Or think things like "I need to buy mascara RIGHTNOW. If I go to the drug store two counties over I can burn like an extra thirty minutes in the car!"
It is my sincere hope that next time I come into your store I will be alone with my book and my iPod and I will sit quietly in a chair and read and not spill anything or alienate other customers by staring at them with milk dribbling down my chin. And I will not look like a meth head. You have no idea how much I want that to be true.