***<\/p>\n
This afternoon I once again took the kids across the street to the middle school to practise their scooter skills. Yesterday I was looking after an additional child so I felt like I should pay attention, but today it was just my two. I brought my notebook because watching children scooter is only interesting the first four times. Yay you popped a wheelie, yay you squatted down real low and scraped your toes on the cement, yay kids yay.<\/p>\n
After I’d written roughly one paragraph in my notebook, I noticed the scooter noise had stopped and I had their full attention. (It’s good to know this is a way to get the full attention of children.)<\/p>\n
“What are you writing?” Eli said. “I know, a story,” he added, “but what’s it about?”<\/p>\n
He does this a lot, answers his own questions in a rush to have the right answer. <\/p>\n
“Actually,” I said, “it’s not a story. It’s just some thoughts about strawberries.”<\/p>\n “What about them?”<\/p>\n “About how they smell so much like strawberries,” I said. “And how I wonder if there are people who don’t know what real, fresh strawberries in season smell like, if they only know about the artificial strawberry smell, like, um,…”<\/p>\n “..Strawberry Shortcake dolls…” Arlo suggested.<\/p>\n I make them sniff my Strawberry Shortcake doll every time it turns up in the toybox at my parents’ house, and each time, I marvel this has smelled vaguely like strawberry scent for THIRTY YEARS you guys.<\/em><\/p>\n “Right.”<\/p>\n “…or erasers?” Arlo said.<\/p>\n![\"IMG_6085\"](\"http:\/\/torturedpotato.com\/the_comeback\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/06\/IMG_6085.jpg\")
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