A couple weeks ago — through circumstances unforeseeable by an average adult couple attempting to leave the house of a morning with all of his and/or her belongings, children and electronics intact, packed and secured — a carseat was left behind.
My 5-year-old son Trassie attends preschool, after which he spends the afternoon at his aunt’s house. So does his little partner in crime, Josh. The two of them have been best buddies since they were babies. How many people can say they forged their most long-term friendships over teethers and drool bibs?
And so they still are together as they being the journey of Education. On alternate weeks, Josh’s mother picks the two of them up and deposits them at my sister-in-law’s house while we do the honors the other weeks.
This particular day, it was our week, and the seat Josh occupies sat alone and shivering in our garage. This fact became clear to Tras and I as we pulled in the pickup line, moseyed to the trunk of the Prius and found it substantially lacking in spare car seat.
After some discussion of logistics — should we take the two sequentially? — I was booted out to wait with the two urchins while Tras went home to get the second seat. That left me and two wiggly boys sitting on the curb for an exciting 20 minutes or so.
They sat like this a while, but then presently the sitting got to be too much for them and the running about commenced.
Unfortunately I didn’t get any more pictures taken; I was too busy trying to capture on video the two of them singing one of the more incomprehensible songs in the oeuvre of Phineas and Ferb. I never did get a good version.
This shot of the two of them sitting there wiggling, though, is too priceless not to share.