The score this weekend is Noah: 2,376,439 to Adults: 0.

Grandma and Grandpa (Jill’s parents) are visiting. They arrived post-nap on Friday to find a chipper boy, who frankly did better than I expected.

The orange cat came visiting, so Noah chased him in circles around the deck, while Jill and Grandma watched. Then we came out front and Nittany, our neighbor’s dog, came by to say hello. Since Nittany is still bigger than Noah, Noah does less chasing.

Until he remembers his favorite game, “Catch Noah!”

The way Catch Noah works is that he runs around in as large a loop as space permits, while an adult pretends to chase him. At some point, Noah flings himself at the adult, who lifts him up or hugs him. Lather, rinse, repeat endlessly or until the adult is worn out and would rather endure Noah crying than to lift him up in the air again.

After Grandpa started playing, I could have been chopped liver.

Saturday was even more exhausting. Noah ran laps around the kiddie park, usually demanding to be pushed in some random “car.” Occasionally he took a break and climbed the picnic tables or the jungle gym. An hour and 45 minutes later when we left to go eat lunch and have a nap, he was exhausted and inconsolable.

After lunch and a nap? Back into town with Grandma and Mommy to find some shoes. A store had been recommended by one of his teachers, and since Mr Chubby Feet has not done well with most shoes, we thought that a special store might help.

If only we could have found it.

I don’t think it exists.

We found the sign, we circled the building, and nada.

So we walked 2 blocks to a little baby/toddler boutique and hoped they had shoes.

They did.

They also had an amazing choo-choo setup.

Noah consented to try on shoes while holding choo-choos at the choo-choo table. The size 9s fit him.

Grandma bought him the adorable shoes as an early Christmas present, which was lovely of her. We played for a few more minutes, but as we only had 20 minutes on the parking meter, we couldn’t stay forever.

Noah was furious. He cried and protested all the way back to the car, and to the house. Nothing helped except “boobah” — which is what Noah calls the Teletubbies. He discovered them on early morning PBS and has become a dedicated devotee. Much to the chagrin of his mommies, who do not use “recreational pharmaceuticals.”

Later, the orange cat came by for another visit, and Noah made the thrilling discovery that Right! Here! In our backyard! There is Dirt! DIRT! D-I-R-T!