Remember recently when I told you this long and boring story about a stroller? I praised it and told you how grateful I am to have it because it is small and fits into the trunk of the car, on buses, in trains, and provides entertainment for Graham in airports?
Well, that was before Tony came home on Friday afternoon and said, "Do you want to go to Rome tomorrow?"
That was before it lost two wheels while we tried to enjoy the music on the Spanish steps.
That was before we continued to use it with its broken wheels to navigate through the cobblestone in this ancient city and it made me ponder how in the world mothers transferred their three-year-olds two thousand years ago.
That was before we watched the colosseum burn, which has nothing to do with the story, but was a pretty neat experience.
That was before we had to park it next to these Cadillacs at St. Peter's Basilica (more on our experience there later this week).
That was before Tony and I complained of strangely sore backs thinking it was due to the fact that we haven't had our bed in 567 nights, but then realized that it was from hunching over to push the stroller over stones, curbs, potholes, and stairs.
But, you know what? The broken wheels provided even more entertainment for Graham, and the stroller got us through the city of Rome just fine. And, when we were crowded on the bus at the end of our tired day, I said to Tony, "Imagine if we had one of those Cadillacs. It would never fit on here and then we would be forced to wait for another bus and that one might be full, too, so then what would we do?"
"We could make it fit." He replied.
Have a good Monday, people.