The Grand Safari

Pretty fancy name for a stroller, huh? But it's fun to say, so I just might teach Rudy that this contraption is called a "Grand Safari" and not just a double jogger. Sound adventurous, and just a little bit elite, and who doesn't want to feel that way headed out to the grocery store, backpack filled with dipes, pretzels, and sippies?

Anyway, as mundane as a double jogger could be perceived to be, having one is rocking my world. I LOVE that I can strap both my kids in and get OUT whenever the urge strikes, and with the weather turning springy, I expect the urge will strike more and more often. 

But on to the hilarious story that is the reason I'm even creating a post about my kiddie/cargo transporter.

On Tuesday, I took Julia out in the stroller for the first time ever. I kept it simple, no jogging, just a quick walk to the park and back, and I packed the babybjorn  carrier just in case Julia hated using a stroller as much as Rudy did at first. Fortunately, Julia was more than content to chill in her new ride and watch the world go by. It probably helped that one of her favorite people in the world was sitting right next to her, making silly faces in her general direction.

Unfortunately, Rudy did not have quite as smooth of a ride. He almost did, mind you-we didn't run into any trouble until we were literally 20 feet from completing the journey. 

As we were strolling past my front yard, I paused for a moment to consider the sorry excuses for bushes that are awkwardly positioned along my front porch. I was working out how I would go about pulling them out when I began walking again and promptly RAN OVER my son. As in, I felt a bump and looked down to see my 3 year old sprawled, face first, on the sidewalk, his little body half covered by the "Grand Safari" that he was supposed to be sitting in. Before you gasp in despair or horror that I would consider this hilarious, let me just assure you that Rudy was absolutely unscathed except for understandable indignation of being run over by a double jogger being pushed by none other than his own mother.

I, of course, was mortified and hurried to help him up to his feet and give him kisses and check him over and all that jazz. Rudy just kept repeating, "That wheel ran me over, Mommy! It ran right over me!" 

I'm just glad we didn't cause an accident at the four way stop right by our house. I could imagine it might have been a bit distracting for a driver to see: kid wriggles out of his seat while mom is stopped, mom begins moving, kid hits the ground like a felled tree, mom doesn't notice anything's amiss until there's an unexpected bump in the sidewalk ahead of her, mom peels her child off the sidewalk while child begins berating the offending front wheel of the yellow contraption he had until recently been riding in. I'm sure it would have caused me to do a double take, and probably begin to chortle to myself. 

Anyway, Rudy and I have a new understanding that he will always let me know if he is getting out of the stroller, and I will always check to be sure there are no small children in my path before embarking on whatever adventure I have planned for my very own "Grand Safari".