I opened the garage door to get some light, and BG ran outside instead of to her side of the car. The toddler on my left hip leaned forward, reaching toward her sister, and I set her down on the ground rather than drop the casserole dish in my right hand.
She ran out the door and started spinning in circles.
We were already late.
I set down my diaper bag and my potluck contribution, opened both back doors of the car, and walked outside slowly.
Both my girls ran to me and hugged my legs.
"Mommy, can you help me catch the birds? They keep flying away every time I chase them."
"Sweetie, the thing about the birds is, they're really fast. And they can fly, and we can't. And when you run at them, they feel scared, and they fly away. So, really, the more you run at them, the ... faster they're ... going ... to fly away."
BG didn't notice me trailing off and was hanging on my every word.
"So, I guess, if instead of chasing after the birds, you just stand still and look at them, you'll see them better."
"And maybe they'll fly to me!"
"Well. Maybe. I guess it could happen."
"Okay, mommy. Let's get in the car now."
And both girls held my hands and walked back into the garage.