The exhausted mother and her three kids were coming down the sidewalk. I’ve seen them before. The toddler in front, sucking a pacifier, flailing his arms and running ahead. The preschooler followed, carrying a backpack and pretending to try to catch up to his little brother. The young mother comes last, probably younger than me, baggy eyes, sleepy infant clutched to her chest.

The toddler keeps running ahead towards the curb. The preschooler is five feet behind, knowing he should stop his brother, but also knowing that it shouldn’t be his responsibility–he is only a preschooler. The mother and infant are another five feet back, the strung out family trying to catch up.

A bus enters the intersection. The toddler continues towards the curb–oblivious. A stranger reaches out, “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” The bus stops. The child is stopped. The mother catches up. Everyone moves again.