Pull out of the driveway of our house, drive to the nearest main cross-street, and head west towards the freeway. Go over the freeway and drive just a few more blocks, and there on your right, standing on a corner, you will find the daycare where my boys spent their weekdays for a time, the daycare from which we eventually withdrew our boys for a variety of concerning issues, the least of which included an inability to spell our eldest’s name right.

Despite the close proximity of that daycare to our house, I don’t drive past it all that often. I’m not avoiding it. I’m not worried about them giving me dirty looks as I go past. I just don’t have much reason to go that way very often. But every time I do go past that little converted housed, I seem to recall this one particular afternoon.

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