We went for a run last Friday. We planned to stop at a pizza parlor afterward and then head to the park so Simon could play on the slides and we could enjoy the weather. But as we we ran down the street towards the pizza, Micah stopped me.
What a find he had found just sitting by the side of the road, all sad and neglected. It was a bookcase. The style was exactly the same as the lovely bookcase that we inherited from Micah’s grandparents. It was stained differently, and missing the glass doors, and only three sections tall, and slightly beat up. But it was just sitting on the curb waiting for someone to take it away. We were about two miles from home, so we started calling everyone we knew who has a car. And was in town. And was not at ward temple night. It was a very short list. No dice. But what did that matter? We had wheels of our own. Simon was happy to walk (and then be carried) while the bookcase took his place in the stroller.
So we walked the two miles home and I only wish I’d counted the number of funny looks we got. We stopped and picked up some pizza closer to home, and it rode on top of the bookcase in the stroller. It was only then that anybody actually said something about our predicament: “That’s a [heck]uva pizza wagon you have there,” he said. It sure was.