This is how we get to preschool. The extra child pictured is my occasional charge. I get a kick out of the way his hair lies almost precisely between Fooey’s and CJ’s, along the colour continuum. Fooey loves when he comes to play because he is fun (for example: they like to play a game in the backyard where they pretend to watch TV; taking turns changing the channel; his favourite involves racing cars), and because he will let her boss him around, most of the time.
Our discussion today, on the way to preschool, was about how long they could expect to ride around in strollers, and from the sounds of it, no one was eager to retire from the privilege anytime soon. Oh, before you know it, you’ll be walking everywhere, I assured them, and, nope, not us, they assured me.