Anyone who has raised a few kids is familiar with this sort of experience: you’re pushing a stroller and your two little ones are each holding onto a handle. The bunch of you truddle along (a verb I just made up meaning stop start adjust step forward adjust step forward push) heading toward the doctor’s office. You stop the procession to pull open the heavy metal door at the entrance to the building.
As you release your grip on the stroller to make this maneuver your two preschoolers do the same — each of them squealing with delight as they take off in opposite directions down the sidewalk. Of course you start shouting like a fishwife not knowing whether to turn right or left (in the moment of panic you forget which child is your favorite).
I’m making light of this situation because 20 or 40 years later it’s a funny scene to recall. However at the moment when it’s happening a mother is definitely not amused. In fact when she finally does manage to corral her kids her adrenaline-pumped system may cause an explosion of rage.
“Don’t you ever do that again” she shouts grabbing each youngster by the collar. “That was very bad!” And on and on …
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