Commute

Since we still only have one bike, if we want to go to town, one of us rides while the other walks, or in Trevor’s case, runs. We decided to check out the English-language service Sunday morning at the Catholic church. It starts at 7 a.m., so Trevor started running around 6 a.m.

I caught up on the bike and delivered his dry clothes so he wouldn’t have to sit in his own pew. As he ducked behind a building to change, a lady started up the path, so I called out, “Hurry up Trevor; here comes a nun.” Then I had that Beatles song stuck in my head all day.