Going For A Stroll

"Bye, Mommy. See you later," my daughter says at least once a day. She pushes her doll stroller past me on her way to the front door, baby doll in the seat and the stroller handles sporting toy purses full of everything from crayons to puzzles pieces.

"Ok, have a good time. Be careful," I say, most of the time. Occasionally I'll ask where she's headed. 

"Walmart," she answers almost every time.

Then she pushes the stroller into the entryway, all the way to the front door, then turns around, heads back into her bedroom, then starts the little game all over again.

It's a cute thing she does now, and as long as she's unable to open the front door, I'll play along.

But sometimes, I feel as if we are barreling toward the day when she'll walk toward the door, yell, "Bye, Mom," and really be going somewhere.

"Don't rush off," I want to say. "Don't rush off."

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