Picture this.
An adorable small child, about the age of 2. Big brown eyes, beautiful blonde curls, and one hell of a cheeky giggle.
Picture this.
Child, running up and down the isles of Woolworths, while his poor flustered mother pushed the trolley after him, asking him to please stop. All the while his small baby brother giggling away in the trolley, no doubt taking in all the mischief his fun big brother is getting up to.
Picture this.
Said adorable (getting less adorable by now) 2 year old, spots his favourite thing! "Powers!". Otherwise known as... flowers.
Picture this.
Poor flustered mother reaches out to stop the adorable 2 year old, from attacking the $50 bunch of roses, and knocks 2 bunches out herself. Picks them up and they are back on their way.
Picture this.
Silly flustered mother, and not so adorable 2 year old head down the fridge isle, and something catches the attention of the not so adorable 2 year old. A fire exit.
Picture this.
Silly (for thinking taking a 2 year old shopping who had not had his ritual 2 hourly nap), flustered and highly embarrassed mother yells "No Ash, don't open that...". Alarm sounds.
Oh man, it didn't get any better either. After a dropped milk carton, a dirty look, some bell dinging at the counter, and running into the carpark, this (silly, flustered, embarrassed and utterly exhausted) mother, was so happy to get that taxi home. Finally. To put the not so adorable 2 year old to bed.
Lesson for the day. Don't attempt to break the routine. You might think you're the boss, but you're not.
P.S. Ashton is back to his utterly adorable 'butter wouldn't melt' self.
