Rockwell-esque

Yesterday your buddy, Jessie, came over to play while her mommy and daddy were working. The two of you decided you wanted to take a little morning stroll around the block, so out the door we went.

As I was pushing your baby brother in his stroller, I realized what a picture the four of us made: me pushing Palmer in a stroller, you about twenty feet in front of me riding a little red bike and Jessie about twenty feet in front of you skipping along in a pretty blue dress. It reminded me of one of those Norman Rockwell paintings depecting the "good old days."

Shortly thereafter you and Jessie heard the recycle truck coming up the street. You both wanted to watch the workers dump the recycles into the truck so we stood in the driveway and watched as the truck picked up the trash four doors down, three doors down, two doors down.

My ideal image was shattered the second the trash man jumped out of the truck in front of our house when Jessie lifted her pretty blue dress up over her head, showing off everything the dress was meant to hide.