On Monday I was mopping the tile kitchen floor. Some soap had been spilt and the floor was sticky on my bare feet. As I scrubbed, rinsed, scrubbed, rinsed, Carmen and David swished their rag mops in tilted o’s and long, narrow ellipses. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Carmen nearly slip, and then smile. Slip, slide, slip, slide, she crossed the floor. Then she looked at me with a broad smile of accomplishment. “I kate, I kate!” Who needs ice?

And if anybody every asks, this is why mothers shouldn’t mop more than absolutely necessary. It’s clearly dangerous!