"You sure I still need this booster seat, Nana Joan?" Complained Amy as the six-year-old lass sat in an increasingly too small chair. "I swear I can feel it squeezing tighter on my butt."
"If you think you're too big for it, I'll let you have the front seat today." 51-year-old Joan opened the front passenger seat for her granddaughter. And with that, the two began their journey home. Joan glanced outside the window, opening it to let her hair flow in the wind as she drove slow and steady, cherishing the time as if this was her last chance to do so. If one would spot the 50-year-old in the driver's seat, one would notice the brown in her hair was starting its long march back into the territory it has lost as the clock turned back. One would also see a seven-year-old itching at clothes that fit her elongating body less and less. "Are we there yet?"
"I think we might need to make a brief stop." Pondered Joan. "What do you think?"