As we approach the shop, we see that the local fire fighters have come for treats as well. This is one of the things we love about where we live: this same group of fire fighters regularly stop in for coffee or treats down the street from our house, and they always stop what they're doing to give the kids stickers and even to let them on the truck. As they drive away, they always turn on the siren and lights.
The chase between Captain Hook and Peter Pan continues on the way home. There is a lot of running and sword fighting, and I find it hard to catch up. About a block before our house, Peter Pan finally slows down. He turns around and walks to me, arms out-stretched. I pick him up and his little green-clad body folds into mine, legs wrapped around waist, head on my left shoulder, thumb in mouth.
He asks if I can carry him the rest of the way.
"I love you, Peter Pan Mom. Can you be the Peter Pan Mom?"
"I'll be happy to, Peter Pan."
I will never grow a mustache,
Or a fraction of an inch.
'Cause growing up is awfuller
Than all the awful things that ever were.
I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up,