“So, what did you end up doing today?” I asked Corinne, my sixteen-year-old.
“Well, it was such a beautiful day, I was going to go ride my bike and get some exercise – but I decided instead just to take the car for a ride and roll down the windows.”
“Mommy, are people at the top of the food chain?” It started, as many philosophical debates do, in the carpool line. I was driving home from school, minding my own business, trying to negotiate a left turn across three lanes of traffic when, from the back seat, Corinne, my eight-year-old, posed the question: “Mommy, are…
We are on a family vacation—walking along a peaceful trail near a stream—an actual babbling brook, which feels like a nature scene so charming I half expect a deer to curtsy. Corinne, age eleven, is skipping a few steps ahead, full of curiosity and questions. She pauses, squints thoughtfully at the water, and asks to no one in particular, “How do you fly fish?”
“Mommy, I have a frog in my throat – but it’s dead”, Leah, my four-year-old, told me.
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