The other day we went on an outing.
Mica was in the didymos (as usual) and Orlando climbed into the little tiny stroller (easier to fold-up and carry on the bus) and off we went. When the bus pulled up, a fellow bus rider offered to help me by carrying the stroller.
Orlando asked me, “Why he ask if you need help?”
“Well,” I replied, “I guess he can see that I have my hands full.”
“Hey, little man! Give me five!!” This, from the bus driver, so happy to see us, apparently. And then we’re walking from the bus stop to the store. We buy a few things, including lunch from the deli, and sit down at one of the little tables in the corner. Orlando loves the garlic noodles and wants to love the beet-carrot-pear juice but is unpleasantly perplexed every time he takes a sip. “Where’s the pear juice, mama?”
We see Matt, Audrey’s Papa. We see Alle (a woman I met at Lyall’s personal essay class at Hugo House) and her son Zack. By the end of lunch, Michael the cashier offers, out of the blue, to hold Mica for me.
We cross the street with quick lessons about the red hand and the white person, skip down the sidewalk, pick up rocks, look in corners and under bushes, and wait just-almost-too-long for the bus, which finally shows up, with the same bus driver as before, who is even happier to see us, “Hey, little man, welcome back!!”
We get off the bus and because Mica is fussing I make a detour to the public library (love the public library!), where I nurse Mica while Orlando reads books. We all make a pit-stop in the bathroom and then we’re on our way again when we see Ella and Millie with their babysitter Fleur. What a small world! What a great neighborhood! We live on Sesame Street!