Toddle’s Wake

Mom’s favourite Christmas was the one where all I’d wanted in the world was a turtle . . . then a second bargain for my birthday. The first—Tiny—was great fun to play with; but the second—Toddle—did little but loll around under his plastic palm. Still, he held on, until the week we were moving back to Canada and decided it’d be best to set them free in the pond off the highway. Poor Tiny, paddling in small anxious circles staring up at me; while Toddle, possessed with a strange new energy, straight off, leaving us far behind in his wake.

Inspired by Not Kool. Photo—Christmas 1968—by Barbara Schulze.