The letter killeth...

We're in Atlanta for the General Conference Session of the SDA Church right now, so this morning I found myself getting on a subway train with three small children--by myself. (Alan had gone down ahead of me for meetings.) This wouldn't have been so bad, if I hadn't had a stroller, a backpack and a large suitcase full of clean laundry I was returning to my friend Bianca. Driving into the train station, I noticed there were no parking spaces close by the entrance. But there was a whole string of handicapped ones...looking down at the handicapped hanger I still had in the car from driving around with Bianca and her wheelchair, a naughty thought hit me. I paused, then swung into the farthest handicapped space (wanted to leave the others for those more handicapped than myself!), hung up the decal and herded my brood out to catch the train.

All went smoothly. But on our return from the train, the trouble began. Anaya spotted the handicapped space.

"Mommy," she reproached me, "did you break the law?"

"Well," I hedged, "it's true that the law keeps those spaces for people who are in wheelchairs or have handicaps. And we didn't have Auntie Bianca with us today. But we did have her laundry. And I had three wild children to take through the parking garage, and a stroller and a backpack, which wouldn't have been too difficult if I hadn't been pulling a big suitcase...."

"Mommy. You broke the law!"

Eventually Anaya grasped the concept that I truly was as handicapped as people who were supposed to use those spots, and that I was doing it because I didn't have two hands to hold onto little boys going through a parking garage, that though I wasn't following the letter of the law, I was following the spirit of it, and that I would never do it again because I didn't have a suitcase full of laundry.

Then Skyler started in. "Mommy, I'm so sad you bwoke the yaw..."

Needless to say, I'm not bweaking the yaw again.