Bobby, you were six. Camping is the coolest, Mom, camping is the coolest--jumping around her as she walked, stoic and bleary, to the van. I love, love, love camping! And you haven't been this effusive in days, after that rocky start to kindergarten.
You sure as heck aren't getting in that van without a struggle. Look at the outdoors! You smell the air, of course, but the people, the musk of all the people around you--you are wild, wild, wild with the sight of the sky and the smell of the people around you. Around the bumper, Bobby. Run around once more. Steady yourself, little body slanting sideways with the force of your run, against the greasy bumper. Get in the car. Oh you can't even sit still, little fast-beating heart, believing at that moment you would still die happy.
A Long Island mom guzzled vodka and smoked pot in a minivan packed with young kids before speeding the wrong way down the Taconic Parkway, sparking the head-on collision that killed eight, authorities revealed yesterday.
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