Picture it: Beaumont, Texas. 1999.
Adrian and I are standing in line in a local 50-year-old bakery and we see a little two-year-old girl dawdling around her mother’s feet. We always admire little girls and smile warmly at each other because we wholly believe that one day we’ll have one of our own. (Ongoing debate.)
Suddenly, the little girl takes a tumble. She trips over her own two feet and lands squarely on her bottom. She scans the room for her mother’s eyes and, when she catches them, her mother holds her gaze steadily.