I scream, you scream, we all scream...

...but nobody screams as well as Drake screams.

Our little public library has a new children's room and computer lab. It is the neatest place. They have some awesome and educational puzzles, games, places to draw, dress ups, magnets, etc. They also have four computers designated ONLY for children 7 and under. They are on short little tables with adorable tiny chairs for those little bums to sit in. The monitors are HUGE and have a cool, hard plastic covers, so for those not quite skilled enough to use a mouse, they can touch the screen instead.
Carson and Drake were LOVING the cute little computers with their educational games tailored to young kids. To top it all off, there was a Dora feature on them. Since they both have crushes on her, that is where they spent the entirety of the allotted 20 minutes time session...and then it came to an end.
cue D.R.A.M.A.
"Drake, handsome; our time is up on the computer and it is lunch time so we should go home and make something yummy to eat," I whispered in his ear while gently pulling the earphones from off his head.
Strong, little hands shot up stopping the headphone removal. "No! Watch Doh-wuh!" Was the emphatic response I received while he struggled to adjust the headphones back in place.
"No, we need to go see daddy, and then eat lunch," I prompted again.
Carson was quick to respond and close up at his station.
"NO! Watch DOH-WUH!" The decibel level was rising. He now had a death grip on the headphones.
Seeing this was not going to be easy, I braced myself, made sure the baby was secure and comfortable in the sling on my chest, readjusted my purse and bag of books on my arm, squared my shoulders, and advanced on the ornery little booger.
I tried leading him by the hand toward the doorway but as though he was attached to some giant rubber band, he would snap right back to that computer, clawing for the headphones in a hysterical fit screaming for his love.
At this point I had to set my purse and bag down (which Carson promptly picked up for me. My hero!), and grip Drake by the upper arm with one hand while prying the headphones out of his fingers with the other.
Eventually we made it out the doorway but still had the whole library to traverse chuck full of people watching our circus act.
Drake had already pulled the limp as a fish, throw himself on the floor routine, so I had to lug him, sobbing, screaming and hacking (which he does we he gets really worked up) by the upper arms, and waddle over his writhing body between my knees with the baby craned forward off my chest trying to watch the wild animal below him. Carson followed, grunting, sweating, and yanking on the bags he was pulling.
After what seemed like an eternity, we made it out the front door. My forearms were burning from the exertion of hauling 35 pounds of moving craziness, in an awkward position. At least we were outside where screaming was (slightly) more acceptable.
We continued the show when all of the sudden I heard, "Hello, Sister Crockett! How are you?" Hallelujah, I was saved...until I turned and saw the missionaries. The ONLY people from church who can't actually hold a baby or child.
"Oh, I'm wonderful!" I panted.
They all burst out laughing. Rightfully so. We were pretty comical. On they went.
Hoping the missionaries were enough of a distraction, and feeling like making it out of the building was a safe bet to let Drake go, I did just that. It was a deadly mistake indeed. Drake was off like a shot; his stumpy little legs pumping FAST; he flew up the sidewalk, tore through the doors, and ran through the library and all I could do was watch his red shirt fade in the distance along with his screams of torture. I was speechless, and defeated.
"Go get him, mommy," I heard a small voice behind me say. There was sweet Carson.
And so, I followed.
I made it back through the library doors to see a little red bullet fly around the corner.
"Can you catch him??" I desperately begged of a man watching the scene unfold.
He tried, but was a little intimidated by the feral animal now snarling in the computer lab. It was up to me.
I cornered him, slung him up on my hip hoping the baby would forgive me for squishing him, and ran out of the building past all the faces still staring our direction.
It only got worse from there. But eventually we made it home. After the exorbitant amount of boogers being shot from flaring nostrils, angry tears, bloodcurdling screams, and sore muscles, it was done. I guess the only thing to do now is laugh because it's either that or cry, and I am an ugly crier. Besides, it's a funny story; just ask all the people we tormented at the library...