My Backpack of Preparedness!

It's a good idea to be prepared!

Hiya, Friends!  Happy Tuesday to you!  Didja survive Monday the Thirteenth?  I sure did.  Maybe I got all wound up and made a mountain out of a molehill about Monday the Thirteenth. 

Or did I?  I mean, sure, I was probably tilting at bogeymen. 

But it doesn't hurt to be prepared for things.   You know.  It doesn't hurt to be ready.  Anticipate, plan for.  Be ready to act.

I've recently come into a smart and stylish fashion accessory that helps me do just that: Be prepared.

What is it?  It's my pink and gray backpack!

This thing is great!  I can fit some necessary objects in it, you know, some snacks, a sippy cup, some toys, my dipes and wipes, a flashlight, a phone, if I can get my hands on one. It'll even hold a small board book if I want to bring along some reading material.

Even in trying times, it's good to keep your mind fed, Friends.  It is.  Remember that!

Hey!  Stop right there, intruder!

It's pretty comfortable, my backpack.  You know, I don't fill it all up so it's too heavy.  That would cut down on the comfortableness, filling it up so it was too heavy.

I'm working on achieving the perfect balance between bringing enough stuff, and keeping my backpack comfortably weighted.  But when I get it right, do I ever feel sassy.  I mean, do I ever feel sassy!

You know, my snappy backpack also has this nifty little D-ring on the bottom of it.  I can have a lead clipped to it, and what do you know?  I have a parent leash.  You see, I've noticed this thing when I'm out and about with Mommy.  She doesn't like to go looking at the things I like to go look at.  I love to just walk over and have a closer look at this and that, but that Mommy tends to keep her feet planted, or worse, make me look at stuff only she likes. 

BOOOOOOOOOO-RING! 

Ooops!  You're supposed to be here.  My bad!  Sorry!

But my Parent's Leash helps with that.  See, I wear my backpack, and my hands are free to touch and feel anything I want, in the world around me.  And let's be clear, as a toddler, it is my solemn vow to experience the world around me with my own two hands, whether it be a shiny car, or a clean mirror or glass door, or clean and brand new clothes hanging on a rack.  That's why it is I who wear the backpack, and Mommy who holds the leash in her hand.

Some people think it's the other way around, that Mommy's in control of that leash, and I'm being controlled.  It simply isn't the case.  As I said, my hands are free, and she's got at least one hand occupied by holding the leash.  My feet are on the ground, free to propel me from here to there and back again, wherever there's something interesting for me to put my hands on.  And I have all my essentials, right on my back.  You can't beat that with a stick, Friends!  You just can't!

Gotta go, Friends!  I have some serious preparin' to do!

That's the genius behind the backpack, Friends!  It's all criss-crossed, who's in charge.  The one who readily looks as though she's in charge isn't, and the one who at first glance looks as though she's being restrained by a leashing device is free, free as the breeze, not riding in a stroller, not strapped to Mommy in the Moby Wrap, not being carried like a football or an errant piglet under Mommy's arm.  So, if you see me out and about, and I'm wearin' my backpack, and I've got Mommy on the Parents Leash, please don't feel bad for me.   Know this, , Friends.  This Tiger Baby has the world by the tail, and has Mommy on a leash.  I'm completely in charge of my situation.  I merely let my mother think she's in charge. 

Leading from behind while in front, Big People.  It's a strategery, Big People.  Look it up!  Look it up, and know this Zoe's just fine. 

Now, I've gotta go fill up my Backpack of Preparedness!