L went home early today with M because she had a fever, and this news has traveled fast to the Busy Bees and Butterflies. Mommy? E asks, as one of her friends simultaneously asks, "E's mommy?" did L have to go to the doctor? No, I assure everyone, she'll be fine. She just went home to get some extra sleep. I'm not worried about her, because one of her friends had the same fever pattern last weekend.
We leave daycare, just the two of us, and because I have but one wiggly creature to corral today instead of two, we're going to walk through the parking garage to the car. I haven't pulled it around to the daycare pickup lane as I so often do. There's a game I began a while ago with E that an old friend used to play. What goes better together than bread and butter? So if you're walking with someone and an object temporarily divides you, you yell BREAD AND BUTTER!! We BREAD AND BUTTER holding hands fashion, stretching over the little red stop light, over the metal pole at the edge of the garage entrance, over the 5 MPH sign, over the spiderweb that adheres to my tricep as I perform butter for her bread.
We get in the car in the garage at the edge of the Brazilian wax landscape, government installation and golf course bread-and-buttering the trees that once claimed sovereignty. This is the sort-of forest where I work and this is the tulip maple at the edge of the sort-of forest where I work and these are the yellow leaves on the tulip maple at the edge of the sort-of forest where I work. Where has the summer gone?