It was lovely out tonight. I decided to go for a walk with Julian and Nora. Julian rode his bike. Nora "walked" behind her bike pushing it. All was well. We made it half way around the block when suddenly Nora decided she didn't want to wear shoes. She sat on the side walk, tossed her little orange crocs to the side, and began running across someone's lawn. I tried to politely explain to her that she needed to wear shoes while out for a walk, there could be glass, not to mention a million other disgusting things on the ground. She wouldn't hear of it. It got ugly, quick. Little, 20 pound Nora, threw herself on the sidewalk, screaming, scrunched up little fists pounding the ground. Me, still in work skirt, blouse and heels, picked her up, and and marched home as quickly as one can while carrying a screaming child, pink tricycle, two orange crocs and a hat. By the time we arrived at our house, it was all I could do to get them inside (what must the neighbours be thinking?...). I sat on the couch with Julian, trying to ignore Nora's whimpers. She walked up to me, and I looked down. She had put her shoes on, and she was smiling.