to the list of things that I will point to in future years as causes of my chronic nervous disorder:
Yesterday, I had all the kids in the van and was driving along a city street when Eamon suddenly gasped and shouted, “Stop the van!”
Of course I did. And of course dozens of Little Golden books, three long-forgotten sippy cups, a busting-at-the-seams diaper bag, a couple of baseballs, and a plastic laughing, talking Elmo toy slid along the floor, rushed under my feet, and otherwise came crashing into the front of the van.
Elmo said, “Yippee-ki-yi-yay!”
I said, “What is it?!”
Eamon said, “I saw a piece of my favorite kind of candy lying on the sidewalk over there. Can I get out and get it?”
Only Elmo laughed.