The Boy finished his second season of soccer. It was a successful season, no doubt. Talking to the coach during Monday’s practice, I heard the kind of praise about one’s child that parents dream of. “He’s really got something,” he said. “He plays thoughtfully. He watches. He thinks. He doesn’t just barge in. He waits for a moment.” This jives with E’s own description of his strategy: “I just run around the edge [of the pack of children all trying to gain access to the ball] and wait for a good moment.”

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After the game, spring planting. The Girl decided she wanted to help. Wanted to drive the stakes that will hold our simple borders in place. Wanted to rake the soil one last time. Wanted to put the young plants in the ground.

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The Boy, just having woken up from a nap, had to fight for his right to drive a few stakes in…