On this unseasonably gorgeous November day (sadly, the sun still said he will set at 3pm), we decided to grab some sandwiches at the local gourmet market for a picnic. While I was at the register, Baby Boy darted between the wine racks. I didn't hear any crashes and I wasn't about to lose my place in line, so I let him roam. (Maybe he was about to find my new favorite Pinot?)
After I paid, I walked around the corner and heard a lady talking to him.
"Hi there handsome. My name is Lisa. What's yours?"
"Nan." (That's what he calls himself.)
"Why, aren't you such a big boy shopping all by yourself! What are you going to buy?"
Then I heard him grunt and in a voice borrowed from Satan he growled, "Go home. I'm pooping."
Ah, lovely. And I hadn't brought his diaper bag.