Horsey rides

 

I was on fours, next to the front door, waiting for my rider. It was about 8 p.m. and Mel, my wife, was sitting in a glider feeding our baby. The lights were out. Tristan, our 7-year-old, was already in bed.

Down the hallway came Norah, our 5-year-old. She was in a blue Elsa Princess nightgown, her hair wet and neatly combed. In her arms were a six-fo…