No, this picture is not taken at an airport. It was taken at approximately 5:26PM last Wednesday, in the cafeteria of Liam’s school. Caleb in tow, I was picking up Liam from his after-school karate class and taking him to a make-up baseball game (due to the 8500 days of rain we’ve had this spring, baseball games have been rained out almost more than they’ve been played).
Never mind the ridiculousness of asking eight-year-olds to play a two-hour baseball game late in the day on a school night, let’s look at the gear:
- one bag full of baseball gear (uniform, cleats, glove, bat);
- one tote bag with snacks/dinner, toy cars for Caleb to play with at the baseball game, wallet, water bottle, extra sweatshirt for Liam;
- Liam’s school backpack, in which he’s carrying the just-released (hardback) conclusion to the Percy Jackson series;
- Liam’s bag of karate gear: uniform and pads for sparring practice
From the school to the baseball field is a distance of about twelve long blocks (from 1st Avenue to the East River/FDR, basically). Yes, we could take a cab, but I figured we’d be taking a cab after the game, as well (cold tired hungry children = mandatory cab ride), and I wasn’t crazy about spending fifteen bucks on cabs.
I’ve thought about starting a new company: Mommy Mules, that would allow parents to rent small docile burros for short distances, as a way to portage all their child-related crap from place to place, but mule-storage is an issue. You can’t just fold a mule up at the end of the day and shove it in the closet.
So yes, to shlep our stuff from school to the baseball field we used our trusty Maclaren assault vehicle. Slung all those bags across the handles, plopped the almost-five-year-old Caleb in the seat and off we went.
I know that some folks frown when they see “big kids” in strollers – and truth be told, Caleb doesn’t ride in it very much any more – but they should unwrinkle their brows. The stroller’s got nothing to do with the child riding in it and everything to do with what’s strapped across the back. Until I solve the mule-storage problem, the stroller will have to do. Sir Edmund Hillary had a sherpa…I’ve got a Maclaren.