Home

We arrived home from our extended Passover trip late last night. This morning as we rushed around trying to reacclimate the girls to a morning schedule so they could get to school and their daddy could get to work, everything was a little frantic. I planned my day as I helped motivate the would-be lollygaggers. L wanted bagels for breakfast and I said that we didn't have any in the house, but that I would get some today. E smartly asked, Mama, are you going to walk there with G in the stroller?

The bagel store is about a mile away but I was so busy inside my head planning grocery store and warehouse club store and obligations on line and 10 days of mail and all the time that goes into the feeding and diapering and shushing of the boy...

"Yes, love," I told her, "I think we'll walk. What a great idea."

The sky was sunny and warm. Petals from the blossoms of the pear trees that line the street blew like confetti on our one-stroller parade. They lined the path of the sidewalk like lighted runners, like we were the celebrants in a processional through the central nave of our neighborhood, the trees themselves our flower girls. G slept in and out of dappled sun and mottled shade and the silky snow that smelled of spring.



And now we're home.

And we have bagels.