It was somewhere between 2009 and 2013 and I sat in the passenger seat with neighborhood scenes going frame by frame as we drove along our street.

With a toddler kicking the back of my seat and a baby screaming because he wanted his bottle — which he had just delightfully flung into some unknown place in the car about three minutes before that — you would think we were driving to Crazytown but we were instead going to church.

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