and...

This afternoon we were driving home from a museum. Everything was quiet because the pirates were almost entirely exhausted. I looked in my mirror to make sure they weren't sleeping. (I think it ages me when they take naps right before bedtime.) But they weren't. Robs caught my eye in the mirror. "Mom." she said, "You're not supposed to start a sentence with and."

"Yes. I've heard that..." I didn't say much, because I wanted to see where she was going with this. Robs' little mind works overtime most of the time.

"A lot of the sentences in that book you made for Squísh start with and. My teacher at school doesn't let us start our sentences with and." She kind of tapered off here. Which is where I briefly explained the difference between professional writing and creative writing.

She went back to looking out the window. Lately brief works best - which, apparently, is a parenting strategy. (I'm reading a book. Again.) Last night I made the mistake of launching into some sort of something and two seconds after I finished I asked Robs if she could tell me what I had said. She gave me a smile instead.

I laughed and then gave her the spark notes version.

Where does time go? Because ten seconds ago it was Robs reaching for those toys.