Okay So on Cinco de Mayo we cleaned the house, awesome. Then we went to the park to play. It took us like literally 20 minutes to find a parking spot. There were baseball games going on and on and on and on. There wasn't enough parking for all the events and the park and there was also a ummm birthday party going on. Not enough parking. Then we finally found a spot and this lady was standing in the middle of the parking spot like she freaking owned it. No. She was saving it for someone. NO!!! You don't get to do that when there isn't enough parking for everyone. NOOOO!!!!! If I were driving I would have honked my horn and made her leave. That is the kind of mood I was in. Plus the fact that we had driven around for so freaking long looking for a parking spot. UGHHH! Steve is a much better person than me because when she waved us on, yes I said waved us on like she was a freaking parking attendant or a flight attendant, anyways he just went right on.
So we get the park and Caleb goes like directly to the slide and plays there for a little bit and then comes the dreaded sandbox. It is actually pretty cool because they built this ummm like moat that you push a button and water flows out of a faucet and through a maze and down the wall then you can catch the water and make sand/mud with the water you catch. What is that called, wet sand? Anyways, there was this like 8 year old there who had made an island and mote and stuff and it looked really cool, but there was at least 10 other kids there who wanted to play too, and play in the sandbox in the cool water that he made, but he wouldn't let them. It really pissed me off. My kid came to play at the playground how he wanted to play, he didn't come to get bossed around. Now I understand that this other kid wanted to play how he wanted to play too, but that shouldn't come at the cost of taking other kids happiness or tears. He was telling a maybe 1 year old not to put the sand in the water mote that he had made, like that little kid is going to understand. I really wanted to go and tell that kid off, Steve stopped me. If Steve wasn't there to stop me I definitely would have. I guess that is the real me. I want to tell people off for the littlest things. Wow, I guess I am like a meanie. Either I had a horrible day or man, I really am a pessimist. Instead of the 8 year old being the terror, is it me? Am I the sandbox terror?