I was on a bus the other day. A toddler was in a pushchair, fastened in tight with straps, fighting them, head tipped back, face a beetroot with the exertion, wailing, snot and tears all over her face.
She wanted out. She didn’t want to be curtailed by her caregiver. She wanted independence, and freedom, and some self determination.
And then the bus lurched to an unexpected halt, and Newton’s laws kicked in, and we all went flying forward momentarily, grabbing for anything we could to avoid clunking into metal poles or landing on the floor. And the toddler remained shocked, but safe in her buggy.
