Heading out this morning with the stroller and two of my favorite walking buddies. They also happen to be notorious backseat drivers–or, as here, stroller-riders. “Why did you go that way, Mama? Why did we slow down? Why aren’t you going faster? I want you to run. Running’s faster. I like running better.” 

Running was not on the agenda today, because I walked for a total of two and a half hours yesterday (my treadmill workout, five round trip walks to the school, and trick-or-treating–which involved steadily chasing my daughter who never walks but only runs) and I’m tired. Oh, and the kids and I caught another round of colds. I don’t even know how that’s possible. These public school germs we’re being exposed to for the first time are serious business.

But we had a nice walk today, and B explained all kinds of things to his little sister, who amuses herself by asking, “What did you say, B? What?” when she knows perfectly well what he just said. Those two are like an old married couple, nettling each other. She, especially, knows just how to get under his skin and relishes it. He puts his hands on his hips and scowls and harrumphs with the age-old exasperation of a man faced with a woman’s utter insusceptibility to his form of logic.  In their exaggerated case, he will point out some obvious fact (like the name of a song we are listening to, or the color of something nearby) and she will flatly and gleefully contradict him. “No, it isn’t!” chirps the little sprite, and B snorts with frustration.

She actually is a lovely child, but after she had refused her nap for the past two days in a row, this delightful (to one of them) raillery was getting out of hand. I got Miss Ornery and her victim out of the house. The walk was peaceful, and this afternoon E took a blessedly long nap and emerged a little blossom of amiability. Walks, and naps, are good things.