So today we went down for breakfast and then over to Bass Pro Shops so my son could see "ish", their tank full of fish.
|nooo! My train is swimming |
with the fishes
|See the blue dot? It's Thomas, being stalked by|
Hubby had to go to the fishing department and ask if be could get a net and fish out a train. I stood by the creek, glaring at the catfish in case they were dumb enough to eat Thomas. A kind employee came over with a huge net and diligently worked on Thomas. He almost didn't make it out, as fishing nets are designed for fish and not toy trains. Out came a stinky slimy train , which I doused in purell multiple times. Hubby was ingenious and wiped up the puddle left from the extrication using a super absorbent diaper.
My son was reunited with Thomas and all was better with the world. I got multiple kisses of
|fishing out Thomas|
And such is motherhood...urban train fishing.
Does it make me a bad mom, in that I was laughing and taking photos the whole time?
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