Rose’s friend S., who rides to kindergarten with us on our carpool turns, is very bothered by how difficult our van door is to open and close. The door really is a beast, and tricky, too: if it slides open all the way it will latch open (so as not to accidentally close) and you have to depress a thumb button on the inside of the door all the way in before you can close it. And then to close it takes just the right slam–strong, but not too strong, or it will bounce back open. But it’s our door and we’re stuck with it, and I thought that S. had understood that, because that’s what I had told her when she complained about it weeks ago. But last week she started up again with, “You need to get an automatic door.” I told her that wouldn’t be happening. The next time I drove her and Rose she complained about it again, and again recommended we get an automatic door. This time I said, “We can’t get an automatic door for this van. We’re never going to get one, so you’ll just have to get used to it. It would cost so much to get one that we might as well get a new car, and we’re not going to get a new car yet, because this one still works fine. And having to close a door that’s not automatic builds character.” I think I made a really strong case (that I’m a defensive old crank).
Mostly the carpool ride is fun and games, though. S. is enamored of Hazel, and she and Rose keep track of whose turn it is to sit next to Hazel. Today S. thought it was her turn, but I remembered that it was in fact Rose’s turn. After they got settled and everyone got buckled in, Rose said, “Mom, whose turn is it to sit next to you? Purse’s turn? Purse always gets to sit next to you!”
Then they finished out the short drive with several choruses of the new song Rose and S. made up: “We’re off to see the school, the wonderful school of Oz! We’re off to see the school, the wonderful school of Oz!”