Last night, I was whining about the evenings being in the 90s lately because that is when I like to take T Junior for a walk in his red plastic car.
Today, we took advantage of a cooler morning. Not cool, but cooler. (I was still too hot in a tank top and my black Adidas capris.) I was scheduled for a 30-minute walk, and it was nice because most people weren’t out of their houses yet so we didn’t have to steer around kids’ abandoned bikes or watering hoses and stuff like that.
In fact, the only encounter we had was with a neighbor, who was on his way out of one of the cul-de-sacs in his gray Silverado. He rolled down his window and said something to me.
But I didn’t hear him. “What was that?” I stopped walking and leaned toward the street.
“Looks like somebody’s having fun,” he shouted nodding toward T Junior.
I laughed. “Oh, yeah.”
He drove away and we continued our walk.
Actually, we’re both having fun.