Simon is feeling better. Prior to his appendectomy a few weeks ago, he was an inexhaustible, nearly unstoppable whirlwind, bent on wreaking havoc, driven to go further, go faster, go harder. His slightly more sedate recovery has been rejuvenating for me.
Recently, in a parking lot outside of Target, that dangerous spark was back. While Joshua and I were busy loading his siblings into the car, Simon, waiting his turn in the cart, saw his moment and went for it, just as Josh was coming for him. With monkey strength and monkey agility, he threw himself at the back of our station wagon and started to climb. Josh struggled to peel him off, trying to keep him from kicking the rear wiper off at the same time.
Simon howled, “BUT I HAD A PLAN!”
There were guffaws from the car next to us.
Josh had to unwrap every little finger from their fanatic grip, but he removed Simon from the window and carried him around to his door. In an attempt to placate Simon enough to get all thirty pounds of long-limbed frustrated fury into a carseat, Joshua dangled a toy in front of him.
“Don’t you want your horse, Simon? You can play with your horse, Simon.”
Simon immediately relaxed, ceasing his protest, instantly excited by the sight of the horse he’d been attached to all day. Relieved, Josh handed him his horse and adjusted his grip to put Simon into the car. Simon, however, had a different plan. He tossed the horse to the far side of the car’s roof, gleefully announcing, “I have to go get it!” and promptly latched himself to the roof rack.
The car in the spot next to us is still occupied, and it doesn’t look like they’ll be leaving the show until we can wrench the curtains closed.