“Mom, can you say ‘I didn’t know you could reach all the way back there’?”
My two year old is stretched over the back seat of the truck, her toes briefly losing contact with the seat. I stand patiently in the rain for her to get into her freaking her car seat already. This phrase about her reaching ability is one I’m asked to repeat almost daily since the first time I said it.
What she’s reaching for is a box. Specifically a box earmarked for the donation center. But every time I utter that reaching phrase, a single item from the box worms it’s way into the back seat and shortly after that, wriggles all the way back to the house.
And still I stand in the rain. Not just to avoid a potential meltdown, but because at least that box is full of books.