Walking toward the house, Avery on my hip and Briar drag-skipping from my right hand, I spy something on the ground. I rush to make sure it isn’t another gift from Barnaby, slayed, fileted and left to bake in the afternoon sun. As I get closer I realize it is still alive, and I scoot it along the pavement with the toe of my shoe. Once, twice and then he does it, he flips over. I watch him crawl away. I smile.
“Ok, girls, one minute. Mom just has to unlock the door.”
“Uh-dow,” Avery gurgles, hugging me with excitement.
“Ooh, look mom.” Briar exclaims.
I turn at the exact moment that her purple sandal stomps down, effectively halting the victorious escape of the bug.
“A bug. I got !” She looks at me, beaming.
“You sure did, honey.”
“You’re welcome,” she says as she brushes her hands together and skips through the door.
“Thanks.” And then a silent, sorry, lil guy.