Why?
"Why is he in that?" the delicate voice asked. All around me are children. Whizzing pass in all directions. One year olds plotting out their first steps with Grandma following their every move, toddlers running just because they can, and dozens of preschoolers replicating the motions of a beehive, all dressed in over sized bright colored t-shirts that loudly display which group they belong to. The delicate voice belongs to one of these preschoolers. Her t-shirt is green, as green as green can get. Standing next to her with a blank almost rude (if he wasn't three) stare on his face was another green t-shirt named Connor. First I tried to ignore this voice, with all the chaos at the museum I decided to plant myself and Dermot on a bench inside the exhibit room so I could still watch my other boys enjoy their play. She asked again, "why is he in that?" I summoned up some of my mommy sweetness and answered her. "He can't walk, this is how he gets ar...