The pram pilot

On Saturday, my father-in-law paid us a visit to take a walk with his grandson. It was the first occasion for both of them. Although one was over sixty and the other one two weeks old. As a test run, the whole family went for groceries. The father-in-law was entrusted to pilot the pram and then guard it outside while we shopped. When we came out, he reported: the baby had gotten fussy, but he had rocked the pram and calmed him down. The accomplishment lifted his spirits. On the way back he joked that he had a license to operate a pram as he was a seasoned pram pilot. Before leaving, he promised to come again the very next day. That evening, the baby had his first effortless bowel movement. “See, that’s because I visited!” my father-in-law laughed when he heard the good news. His wife later reported that at nine, instead of sleeping as usual, he was pacing around their apartment, too excited to rest. “This never lasts longer than a day,” my wife told me. Early next morning, he called to say he’d already been outside, and there was wind and it was very cold. All in all, he couldn’t come… I looked out the window. The city was empty and still, like a photograph.