Tom Jones

For some unknown reason our local neighbourhood park is named Tom Jones Park...the sign is kind of hidden though and no one really calls it that, except for our family.  The kids often tell people they went to "Tom Jones" and get a bewildered response.  We started calling it TJP now which may not be any better.

Anyways, we rode our bikes to TJP today and it was a bit of an adventure.  We were there for about five minutes when an eight year old  boy decided to ignore numerous warnings and disrupted a bee hive.  He was stung in the head and ran around the park holding his head and screaming and crying.  I was distracted by this drama and I didn't even notice that little B was being bossed around by a 6 year old girl.  R was very concerned and came running over to tell me about it, "Mommy, that girl told B that he had to sit there and he wasn't allowed to move!".  By now the incident was over and B had carried on.  R wasn't ready to move on though...she insisted that the little girl be told off.  I tried to convince her to just drop it but that just didn't sit right with R.  She marched over to where the 6 year old girl was on the swings with her eight year old (bee-stung) brother and her ten year old sister.  Little 4 year old R walked right up and gave her a piece of her mind.  I couldn't quite hear the conversation but R was obviously standing her ground.  She came back satisfied.  I asked her what she said to the girl and R said, "Oh, I just gave her a little talk!"...R truly is bold as brass!  R must have been nice about it though because a minute later the same kids asked her to play "Grounders".  It was so funny because the other three each did the classic "1-2-3-not-it!" and R simply beamed, raised her hand and proclaimed, "it!"...she didn't mind being it - she was just naively happy to be included.

The drama didn't end there though.  We got onto our bikes to ride home and B promptly bit it on the pavement.  His balance bike seemed to have failed him and his lip was bleeding and he was screaming his little face off.  Head thrown back, big tears and bloody mouth.  Hugs, kisses, and even promises of marshmallows couldn't get him back on his bike so I carried a whimpering squirt, his bike, and pushed my bike home.  Every day is an adventure with these two!