Third Wheels

When Eric and Rich do their thing, I frequently feel like a third wheel. They love to play trains and build with legos; things that I find unspeakably boring after about 30 seconds. Plus this late in my pregnancy, I hate being on the floor. It's uncomfortable and really hard for me to get off the floor later. When Rich leaves the room to do something, Eric will frequently need help and insist on waiting for "DADDY DO IT!!!"

My cousin Jarad had his barmitzva on Saturday night. We did not attend the barmitzva ceremony, because chasing Eric through a synagogue during an important religious ceremony did not seem like a good time for anybody involved. So, we went to the reception afterwards. Eric was awesome for about an hour, then it was getting close to bedtime, so Rich went to take him home. I was to stay and catch a ride home with my immediate family.

However, fifteen minutes later they came back for me. "He was hysterical in the car that we were leaving you here. I just couldn't do it."

"Did you want your mommy to come home with you?"

"Yeah." He told me emphatically.

So, I missed dinner and schmoozing, but it's nice to know I'm really the third wheel of a tricycle, not a bicycle.