Dear Blue and Wheels,
The other day at the playground, you wanted to ride the tire swing, Blue. The tire swing is a popular apparatus, and normally it’s off limits because the older kids like to hang around on it.
But on this day, it was free, and you rushed over to it, converging on the swing at the same time as another kid. You both climbed in, and as per tire swing etiquette, I was offered the pushing duties since you were smaller.
I don’t know if you like the tire swing, Blue. My suspicion is you get on it just to prove to yourself that you can, but it’s clear every time you go on you are not enjoying yourself as much as you are when you’re climbing up the slide backwards.
You grabbed the chain with both hands, white knuckles just above the links. You didn’t smile. Didn’t laugh. All that you did was mumble “Hi mommy” over and over again.
“Hi mommy” has become your most recent self soothing mantra. It’s something you do when you get really nervous. For a while, it was spinning in a circle. Before that, it was making raspberries. These sorts of things come and go, so I try to get them on video in case they disappear and are never seen again.
So you kept saying “Hi mommy”, even though it was daddy that was pushing you and mommy was across the playground. The kid across the tire swing from you, whose knees you were touching, looked at you, confused.
“I’m not your mommy,” he told you.
There wasn’t much more to say, as you two strangers shared the inside of a tire, swinging dizzily in a slow circle while touching knees.
Wheels, you can now kick mommy so hard we can see your footprint now. Impressive.