We broke the scooter.
And I use that pronoun very, very loosely.
If you’ve seen Tucker scooting around town, school, church, or our general community, then I’m sure you are not surprised.
I was not surprised. Except to say that it’s a little alarming to see broken metal.
That’s the speed and velocity with which my son travels. Enough to twist, break, and sever metal.
When I took it back to the medical supply warehouse, the woman behind the counter said, “Well. It certainly wasn’t this way when you got it.”
I laughed out loud.
Um, no. No, it sure was not.
I once heard a young mom say, “I do not allow these things. They happen anyway.”
Nine more days of this. Nine. That’s less than ten.
