Chicken feet

Note: I'm going through blog posts I have waiting to be published. This made me smile. 

It was to be a short trip.

On Saturday, I bought some harnesses for my Pugs. I bought them a size too big, and I and the Pugs didn't really like them.

I threw my shoes on and planned to be gone about 20 minutes to return the harnesses and get my money back.

I parked my car at the store. I didn't even shut my door when I heard a voice behind me.

"Hi Monica."

I turned around and saw the world's cutest toddlers, dressed in black. Like ninjas (they pronounce it ninyas).

A simple shopping trip turned into an hour-long adventure wherein my nieces climbed into a diaper display, put a package of chicken feet into the cart, and screamed in excitement when I put them upside down, threw them into the air, and twirled them around in circles.

I hate it when people's kids run around stores like little monsters. It turns out, if those kids are related to you, it's totally okay for that to happen.

My objective that afternoon was not to shop. I had already done that a few hours earlier. My goal was to make my nieces smile and laugh as much as possible.

I love those little ninyas (toddler speak for ninjas).