Toddler Aerobics

Scene:  The Mall.

We're just getting ready to exit Target when I hear a little voice coming from near my knees.

Little Angel:  "Pinnies!  I wanna throw pinnies ina fowntain!"

Shit.

I decide to go for it, considering a) this is a innocuous request, b) I actually, for once have pennies and c) any aerobic activity will make the little angel sleep better.  Plus, she's slept the last three nights in a row, ever since the fever vanished.

But we must jog.  That is the rule.

She starts to trot down the mall, past the Bath & Body Works, past Foot Locker.  She picks up speed when she sees the fountain. 

After tossing five pennies in the fountain, we head back. 

Me:  "Let's run!"

She takes off at a good clip, training in her head for the Toddler Olympics. 

Little Angel:  "You run, too, Mommy!"

I begin my Mommy Shuffle.  This does not really constitute running, but she thinks anything above a walk is high-speed MADNESS.  As we pass by a flock of middle-aged women holding enormous Starbucks megadrinks, one of them peers over her sunglasses at us.  "What I would give for that energy," she says.

I think to myself, rudely, well, all you have to do is move - it does have this funny side effect of giving you more energy.  Put down your green-strawed heart attack and bust it, sister.

The little angel jogs the length of the mall. By Target, she seems to be getting winded.  I wait for her to slow down.  As she enters the final Target stretch, she's tiredly weaving past the aisles, nearly clocking lawn ornaments in her exhaustion.  She looks back at me.

Me:  "You know, you can stop running any time you want."

She stops dead in her tracks and holds her arms up.  I feel horrible, realizing she was thinking that "run" meant you have to keep running until you drop.  Stephen King would have a heyday with this one.

I pick her up, and she lays her head on my shoulder, pooped.

Me: "I'm sorry, honey, I thought you understood how exercising worked."

Little Angel:  "Wow, Mommy. Good workout."