Last week, that memory flashed into my head again, only this time, I was standing in the middle of a dark street, trying to keep track of my son, who was running with a pack of boys, while pulling my toddler in a Red Flyer wagon (who, incidentally, went trick or treating in her swimsuit. Her brother’s old Spiderman boots added a nice touch, though.).
This time, I didn’t pity the couple in my memory. I understood them perfectly.