Jack and I take long walks most mornings, but these walks are dependent on Jack’s riding in the stroller, or, as some call it, the “doder.” Andrew joins us on the weekends, but this morning Jack wanted to walk, not ride. We let him walk for a while, but I got fed up with the pace and tried again to coax him into riding.
“Don’t you want to ride in the stroller?” I wheedled. “That way, we can go fast! And we’ll be able to go see the…” here I paused, casting about for some exciting thing we could walk to.
“We could go see Place!” suggested Andrew.
“Right!” I said. “Place! We can go see Place, Jack! Do you want to get in the stroller?” And in he climbed.
We went on our merry way, and soon Andrew and I completely forgot about Place. And, if we had remembered about it, we would have assumed Jack had forgotten about Place as well. But about a half hour into our walk, we happened upon a house with a shed in its yard. “It’s Place!” cried Jack, pointing at the shed.
“Yes!” I replied. “See? I told you we’d see Place.”
As if that was not enough, I finished the day by telling him that the Sesame Street CD was sleeping. He totally fell for that one too.