Today was our first day of summer vacation. We kicked off the reprieve from work (well, until Monday, when I return for curriculum writing) with some errand-running. After a stop at the bank, gas station, dump, and paint store, we headed to Macy's.
The boys were beyond excited when they realized we'd have to travel to the second floor. This meant a ride on the escalator. B has always hated elevators, and will climb any required flights of stairs to avoid them. Escalators are a different story, though.
As I was checking out and signing up for a Plenti card, I had to pause several times to politely scream at my boys to get out of the way of the escalators until I joined them. I joined them as quickly as I could and stepped on the descending stairs just after G did.
G looked down and saw that the "steps" turned into "spikes". He instantly freaked out and retreated to my left. He grabbed the top of the bannister and held on for dear life while his feet staggered backward against the tide of moving stairs. B was frozen behind his screeching brother. I turned, arms laden with my purse and purchase, and ascended towards him.
I was running in place, wishing again that I worked out more, trying to reach poor G. I called to him to just let go and ride the escalator--it was fun! Do you know how difficult it is to sound reassuring when you are running in place like an idiot in public? The cashier had just arrived at the top of the stairs to help when G lost his grip and landed on his bottom in tears. Now I was trying to reassure him while not step on him, and while dismounting the escalator backwards and without falling on my butt as well.
B gathered himself quickly, put on a normal face, and joined us on the escalator. As soon as I hit terra firma, I scooped G up and held him and held him as he twisted my hair and cried. Big brother hit the landing, raised his arms in victory and began chanting, "Again! Again!"
Once we arrived home, I took a nap. Whew!
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