There’s nothing like a new tricycle on a gravel path, on a blustery day, on one of the last days of winter. Faster and faster she goes, around and a...ound on the driveway. Tiny hands hold the handle bars. Occasionally, she pretends to warn oncoming traffic of her approach, just like her daddy does in the big car with his big horn. She reaches to the right and squeezes the tricycle’s wee traffic bell. Look out other tricycles, driver coming through! Overhead the heavy low old hanging branches of. “Yeah, thanks. This is a real firecracker of a wife yougot on your hands. The boys at the office are alwaystalking about her tits or ass,” he joked. “Stop it!” mywife said, again playfully reprimanding him.“Well, it’s true.” He said matter-of-factly.“But then I tell them all that she’s the boss’s girland they all shut up,” Bill laughed. I didn’t like thathe called my wife his girl, but my wife just looked athim approvingly. More

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