August 16, 2007
sandy naked blake

I had a fantastic day. I got all my anniversary shopping done (wool, glass, card), plus correctly-fitting post-nursing bras, a staple-less stapler, and various toy treats for the Blake. Plus, I got to spend all afternoon with Scherezade, one of my favourite people, and I spent the end of the day chasing a naked Blake through Dufferin Grove Park. Fortunately, that place is always full of so many hippie parents that nobody seemed to care.

Why was he naked? Well, he had an "accident" in the art supply store that left him commando, so when we got to the wading pool, he rushed in and I had no alternative but to strip him of his soaking togs and send him in nude. Then I took off with Scherezade, leaving Cheryl with her two kids and my nudist. Cheryl's so great - she just thinks this kind of thing is funny rather than deeply alarming. We both thought, "what's the worst that could happen?"

While I was gone, a guy came over and asked Cheryl if she was the naked kid's mom. "No, I'm just watching him. His mom took his clothes off and left." When I heard this story later, I was compelled to add, "she sounded pretty high." We laughed.

Turns out that you have to wear clothes in the wading pool and in the play area. Who knew that this wasn't Woodstock, what with all the organic food and bra-less, nursing mothers? Squares.

I have several short videos of Blake chasing his friends through the park, him naked and them clothed. It was good times for all. By the time I managed to pry him away from Cheryl's son K3nt0n and their chasing and singing games, the sun was setting. I returned home with two fresh rotis and all of Blake's clothing quarantined in plastic bags, and I walked in the door completely spent in body and soul.

The bra shopping was top-notch, as per usual. Secrets from Your Sister takes all the hassle out of bras, which is good when you're like me and yo-yo around the sizes with unpredictable force. To give you an example, when I started wearing bras after an 8-year hiatus, it was after the antidepressants had kicked in and I was 20 pounds overweight. Size: 38B, with the possibility of extenders to accommodate my enormous back. Then I got pregnant and gained a cup size. Then I had Blake and started nursing, which started to shrink my back somewhat. Now I'm a full year past nursing, 5 years past my weight gain, and still firmly in need of a bra. What does one do? One goes to SfYS, where you will be accurately measured and waited on by a consummate professional who – irony – is not wearing a bra herself.

My overall experience was enhanced by Blake, who, giving no hint of his later descent into anarchy, sat quietly in a corner with a bottle of apple juice and listened contentedly to the Scissor Sisters album being played over the shop speakers. He was, uncharacteristically, angelic. This may have been because I woke him up from his nap after only 20 minutes of sleep, and he was bone tired…but I'll take it wherever I can get it. Usually I have to enlist my companion to distract/guard him, but even Scherezade's late arrival went unnoticed. He was Just That Good.

We spent the rest of our afternoon buying him little toys. I hardly ever indulge him like that, but I was feeling pretty indulged myself (I will not disclose my underwear bill; it is, like its subject, unmentionable). So he scored some new bath toys and a whale model, plus a new red, white and blue striped ball (a curiously hard-to-find item that he loves with the passion of a collector). Well, he scored 2, but that was because in all the confusion surrounding his "accident" I didn't realize that I had already slipped a ball into my bag for safe keeping, thus I wound up paying for another ball and discovering the first an hour later. The Clueless Shoplifter strikes again. I'm feeling pretty guilty; not only because of what I taught my son but because they let me use the staff bathroom in Blake's hour of need. Bad mom.

When we got to the park, he dug himself into a sand pit and allowed Scherezade & I to forage for an afternoon snack. There's nothing quite like sitting in the shade with one of your oldest and best friends, eating an organic hot dog with your fingers and chasing it with a sun-warm chocolate chip cookie while your son is absorbed into the anarchy of a hippie kid sand pit. I highly recommend it. Of course, as soon as the wading pool entered the picture it all fell apart. But it was awesome while it lasted.

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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*