It's so hard being a toddler.

After tea last night we needed something from the corner shop so we decided to all go, The Husband and I on foot, Thing one and Thing Two on their scooters and The Toddler walking.  He was veritably happy holding both The Husbands hand and my hand.  However, he was not happy just holding my hand, oh no.  The Husband attempted to catch up with the elder two and The Toddler had an epic tantrum and tried to lay down, in the road, as you do.  I had to near dislocate his arms to pick him up and get him to the other side as he did that dastardly thing all toddlers do when they don't want to be picked up under any circumstances, they go floppy.  In his wisdom The Husband thought he'd go into the shop alone, cue yet another epic and absolute breakdown from The Toddler until The Husband picked him up and took him with him.  Just in case two immense tantrums weren't enough in 10 minutes, The Husband, the big kid that he is, went to have a go on Thing One's scooter resulting in a third tantrum from The Toddler as he tried to throw himself on the path whilst I scrabbled desperately trying to support his head so it didn't make acquaintance with the pavement, yet The Toddler was having none of that, little did he realise I was trying to help him, the silly sod, and he wailed and flailed and flopped and thrashed, whilst I scrabbled and juggled and grabbed and in the end I just saved his head from meeting the ground yet he fought that hard he nutted his lip on my knee. Gah.  No really, double gah. I don't mind him having a tantrum, he's entitled to feel miffed however I do so wish he would try a wee bit  harder to not damage himself or at least let me help him.

Lesson learned The Husband didn't stray again and the homeward trip consisted of ye olde distraction trick one 'one, two, three, weeeeeeeeeeeee' swinging him between us.