Post Office

A couple of horribly (yet delightfully) blurry images of
Dear Alex in motion on her new favorite thing.

We live a couple of blocks from a really grand post office - the kind of thing the government built when mail was king. A vast space with marble floors, high ceilings, banks of P.O. boxes and best of all a two-story open lobby with working escalators. It's a public space, and of late Dear Alex and I have been going to the post office every day to go in the "door that goes round and round and ride the moving steps up and down. okay!" I can't take credit for discovering this marvel - Beautiful Wife took her here on a real postal-related mission, and it kind of blew Dear Alex's mind - I'm not sure what it is, but she dearly loves her "eskalaterrr - moving stepss". Of course writing it does no justice to the delight of listening to her get the word "escalator" out. A couple of days ago, Dear Alex came to me when I got home from work to ask if we could go outside and walk to the post office, go in the revolving door and ride the escalators up and down. It made me stop for a moment - she'd made a pretty completely thought out plan of what she wanted to do, found the right words, and asked to do it. I'm impressed, and more than happy to oblige. This is the stuff I live for right now - being able to understand what Dear Alex wants, and give it to her. I'm quite sure that there will be a time when those requests will be more complicated and less charming, but for now it's a lot of fun.