it escapes me

I nearly dropped Alice off with my lunch instead of hers.

Fortunately, I realized the mistake before anyone tried to feed her carrot-ginger soup. (Although, in retrospect, I think she would have gone for it.)

Then, when I picked her up looking like this,

Can you tell? She's all scratched up.

her teacher suggested (very nicely), “You might want to cut her finger nails.”

Yes! Obviously. A must do.

Oh man.

What I have come to see as a critical element of Alice’s recent best day ever is this: On the day in question, David happened to have a late-starting work shift, so we were able to double-team her through the get-up-and-go process. And since he could stay a little longer at home before dropping her off, the pace of her morning was slower than usual.

Oh man.

I feel terrible, of course, that we can’t work it that way all the time.

I worry, of course, that the usual rush-rush is rubbing off on her.

Anyway, I guess what I want Alice to know one day is that, even when the seams were more ragged than we wanted them to be, they did not come apart.

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