Granny Cart, questionable parenting

There are times that we all doubt my parenting. On the way to ceramics camp, where we were going to pick up the Wonder Twins pots, clay plates, clay animal figures, and clay nubs, Wonder Twin Girl asked if she could ride the granny cart.

Against my better judgment, I plopped her in there and proceeded. We hit a crater in the sidewalk, the cart toppled, I screamed (I always let out a blood-curdling scream when one of my kids is about to get hurt and I can’t stop it), and then fell on top of her in the cart. So smooth, right?

She crawled out after I got up. She had scratches on her forearms. I bloodied my shins. Once we determined we were okay, I said, “I know this is a terrible idea, but I would let you ride again. I think I can avoid the pot holes this time.”

She was not interested, which really, was the wise choice.

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