This Is Us

Chapter 3

  "Come on, Walker, work with mommy," I all but beg the little boy as I attempt to catch his stubborn feet with his shoes. He's pushing away from me, even trying to crawl away from me. 

  "Just put them on in the car while he's strapped in," Ian tells me as he grabs his cooler lunchbox from the kitchen counter. "It's what I do. Screams and cries, but finally gives in."

  I hide the roll of my eyes, grabbing up my son from the floor. His blue eyes appear to look past me which leads me to think Ian has come up behind me to hug us goodbye, but with a short turn on my heel I see that's not the case at all. In fact, I hear the sound of his truck revving up before tossing gravel as it rolls down the driveway. 

  With a sigh I take a seat at the kitchen table, settling my sweet boy in my lap. I set the shoes right on the table in front of me and watch as he uses his hand to shove them off with a grunt. There isn't a "No" from him, but a grunt with the sound of 'n' coming through, before he pulls at his socks. A quick yank and his little toes are freed as he tosses them to join his shoes. 

  It was spring, the sun already warming up the area as I debated how to proceed. I grab up the shoes and socks, tossing them into the diaper bag. Walker wasn't quite strong on his feet yet so I knew he wouldn't be getting the pudgy appendages dirty. "Alright, my love. You win today, mister man." I place a small kiss to his cheek and make for the car, already dreading the fight that is about to take place over buckling him in. 

  The amount of surprise on my face must be evident because he starts to giggle, shaking his white blonde hair back and forth as I click the buckle in without issue. "You, are something else," I giggle back with him.

  I always figure that one day Walker will really start putting two and two together as we pull into the parking lot of the pediatrician's office. That he'll start noticing the mural on the outside of all the Disney characters that are painted on the side of the building next to the parking lot.  And then he'll pitch a royal fit about going to the doctor, or be really excited because of the paintings. So far, at the age of two, neither are happening. 

  As Ian tells me, don't look a gift horse in the mouth.

  Yes, dear.

  With Walker on my hip I walk through the back entrance, passing the well waiting room and keep going straight to the sign in desk. Walker doesn't pay too much attention to the dull paintings of Sesame Street or Precious Moments children along the walls as we pass them. 

  "Oh my word!" Donna shouts with glee from behind the desk as we step through the hallway door. "Could he be any cuter!"

  "Nope. But, I'm biased, can't be trusted," I tease back and forth with her as Walker begins to push off from my chest. "No, buddy. No shoes remember?" I tickle his toes to remind him but he tosses his head back in anger and frustration, trying his hardest to shimmy out of my harms.

  "Walker Baxter, you giving your mama a time?" the older woman attempts to grab his attention by giving a little pinch to the back of his arm. Unfortunately that only makes the small tantrum worse.

  "Well room, right?" I ask, pushing for the sign in process to move along quicker. 

  She gives a nod, "I'll bring the paperwork down to you in a minute."

  Back through the hallway, past the boring characters, all the while grappling with a frustrated toddler. I breathe a small sigh of relief seeing that the room is empty which means Walker can have his own seat not in my lap.

  "Let's try these again, okay?" As soon as his eyes fall on the socks he's pushing my hand away, continuously making the 'n' sound but never adding in the 'o' for a full 'no.'  "Walker Jameson," I snap a little louder than I mean to, causing those bright blue eyes to look over my shoulder as he starts to whimper.