My son, Bob.

I must remind myself that not everyone is familiar with children's gear. And I (often) make statements that just don't make sense once the words have come out of my mouth. And I'm sure the lady on the street corner was very nice, and probably brilliant in other ways...

There John and I were, waiting for the light to change. As usual, he was in his super-cool BOB Revolution stroller.


For those non-parents in the crowd, the BOB strollers are everywhere right now. It's like they've figured out a way to reproduce and have multiplied like rabbits at the parks. The models mostly look the same, so they're easy to spot from a distance. And they all have a big "BOB" embroidered on the front.

So there we are, standing on the corner, next to a lady. She had a dog, so we were quite interested in her. She looks over at us, takes in the stroller, and then asks John, "Is your name Bob?" To which I say, "No, the stoller's name is Bob." She thinks I'm being flip. So she walks away. But I'm being serious. And she took her dog with her, which was sad.

This makes me wonder, does she think there's been a slew of children named "Graco" recently?