If I see one more stroller on the bus I’m going to scream. I understand the mothers have to go somewhere, but why on the bus during rush hour. Where is the sense in that? Their wheels scrape my ankles and their children often smell of nappies needing to be changed
her eyes had a sign of distress, lack of sleep, and responsibility. now you think about it and you wish he would’ve worn a condom then. now shut up and push that stroller.
aaargh why all the latest oneword reminds me of songs?
“strollin’ strollin’ we could have fun just strollin’… rockin’ rollin’ oh yeah…”
strollin by prince
The baby I didn’t/haven’t/may never have is somewhere, right? Huh. I wonder how many there might have been….if there’s one on its way out right now even.
A woman pushing a stroller with her baby were hit by a car today, right in front of my house. The baby died. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to drive down this street without feeling sadness for my neighbor and her daughter.
Strollers are for babies. The last time I saw one was when my littlest sister was, what, five? We used to have a double stroller so both of my sisters could ride in it. They are only a year apart. My sister wasn’t five, maybe more like three. She is the cutest thing in the world.
i remember pushing your stroller when you were little. Time flies. I can’t believe we are so old. But I am glad you are the way you are. I love you, my sister.
The stroller began to roll and in seconds, had bounced off the sidewalk and into the oncoming traffic. It was a nightmare to begin with- horns honking, people from all sides screaming, the world waiting for what was to happen. Only one man dived after the child and risked all he had for a stranger he’d passed by on a sidewalk.
the stroller is sitting in the garage, away from eyesight
where we don’t have to constantly be reminded of the sweet little girl that was pushed around in it
and the loss of her from our life
A stroller. Who really wants kids nowadays? Certainly not me, considering I have such a long life ahead of me and I am still young. It’s far to early for me to be thinking about the future, the ball that comes with the chain of marriage. Strollers are such ugly looking things as well.
She pushed the old battered stroller across the wobbly road. The life inside was so much more precious than this rusty piece of metal. It deserved more.
Of course. Baby. As if my mind has not been filled with this longing enough. As if I haven’t found out today that another person I know is pregnant. As if I’m not continually searching for the perfect balance of being content with where I am, yet still longing for the child I want.
I peered down at yo, sitting in your stroller. You hollered and hollered, and I remember wondering if I was that collicky when I was small. I ran with you. I pushed the stroller, not too hard, though. I ran you around the front yard and you started giggling. I heard and didn’t have to see your face to see that beautiful smile. All I could see were your hands grasping out to touch things that were not there. At age seven, I marveled at how small and intricate your baby-hands were.
since my sister is pregnant, we’ll have to get a stroller. buying one is far more complicated than one would think, so many different details have to be taken into account.
It’d be a lot more romantic if the stroller held a baby. Sure, I cover it up, sure it looks like a baby in there, but I’m only pretending. God help me if someone comes up asking to see the precious little thing… I worry every moment someone will… but, I guess in retrospect, walking around with a stroller won’t get me a baby any sooner….
The stroller has blue and green handles with a baby in the seat. The baby is cute. She licks the stroller apathetically and looks around with her soft brown eyes. Her mother pushes her along a crowded downtown street and the girl giggles at passersby.
He walked down the street idly, acting as thought he rain wasn’t falling in torrents and ruing his meticulous thee piece suit. he paused when the rain stopped overhead and he looked over at the smiling man who held the umbrella. Wordlessly, he twined their arms together and walked with him,
a couple of weeks ago I watched a young couple wrestle a 7 foot long snake into a backpack and then put the backpack into their stroller with a 8 or 9 month old baby girl. i wasn’t sure what to think about that at all.
Silently it rolls away from the mother, no cries from either party. The child silently gliding away, never to be seen again. Taken away. Far away. Second on the right straight on til morning.
Stroller, that means babies. Babies mean diapers, which tend to smell. Aparelntly a mother find her babies own poop less smelly than another childs. Maybe its a survival thing. no one wants a kid that smells bad. Iremeber kindergarden and there was always that one smell kid in class. no one wants to be him. Now that im older even less so. But being old isnt all that its cracked up to be, infact, i miss highschool. That was easy, no car, no insurance, lifes good.
Are you happy pushing that stroller up and down the street? Are you pleased that you never became the surgeon you wanted to become because you got knocked up at twenty two? I hope you’re happy that instead of saving lives, you’re pushing a brand new one around like it’s nothing.
a stroller is a carriage to push a baby around in, They can be quite expensive or very cheap, not normally differing all that much. Babies and young children as old as 3 can ride in them and are not recommended for older children.
She pushed the stroller down the dark alleyway, knowing that on the other side people would be in sight. As a homeless woman, she needed some way to convince peole she needed the money. If they thought she had a baby, they would be more likely to give her the money to live another day.
The kid was in the stroller. So was a six-pack underneath, and my flask in the little basket near the handlebar. “Sure hon, I’ll take him for another walk”, and out the door I went.
Stroller, please. LIke i need a freaking stroller. Strollers are for soccer moms and the cool dads… not the aunt, nanny, mom’s friend, blah, blah, blah…
bite me.
She pushed the stroller and didn’t see the ground below it. She didn’t see the sky above her and she didn’t see the green leaves of the tree. She only sat and thought of the emptiness left by the child who didn’t exist.
a baby goes in there and is pushed down the street in it. It is also referred to as a pram. A pram is more of a European term, I doubt the average Canadian, when asked, would know what a pram is.
the stroller was the best stroller in town. It’s wheels were super duper shiny and the population loved to stare at it. It was pink blue and gold! it could hold about 2 fat mexican kids and a black skinny one.
Stroll with her. Keep her by your side as you brush up against people on the sidewalk; hold her hand firmly but with enough space to let the breeze cool off your sweaty hands. Can you feel it? That burning? That sensation? It’s probably herpes.
The stroller started careening down the hill, dodging the elderly, the ipoded hipsters, the dogs and puppies and all sorts of people until it came to rest daintily among a rosegarden. The baby inside wasn’t all too happy about the thorns stuck in hit’s eyelids, however.
Richard doesn’t walk, he strolls. He saunters. He lazes down the street, all hipster glory, why am I not on my bike? on my unicycle? scarf flutter gently in the breeze, converse shoes tapping out Of Montreal rhythms, three-day scruff on skinny neck. Don’t ask hard questions.
If I see one more stroller on the bus I’m going to scream. I understand the mothers have to go somewhere, but why on the bus during rush hour. Where is the sense in that? Their wheels scrape my ankles and their children often smell of nappies needing to be changed
her eyes had a sign of distress, lack of sleep, and responsibility. now you think about it and you wish he would’ve worn a condom then. now shut up and push that stroller.
aaargh why all the latest oneword reminds me of songs?
“strollin’ strollin’ we could have fun just strollin’… rockin’ rollin’ oh yeah…”
strollin by prince
put a fucking baby in it and walk about, is that a stroller?
The baby I didn’t/haven’t/may never have is somewhere, right? Huh. I wonder how many there might have been….if there’s one on its way out right now even.
No strollers necessary, thank you.
A woman pushing a stroller with her baby were hit by a car today, right in front of my house. The baby died. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to drive down this street without feeling sadness for my neighbor and her daughter.
I walked and thought. My thinking slowed me down. I was a superhero. Lost in thought, I was The Stroller.
Little girl in a stroller, licking a lollipop, all the world is a playground for her… Now she’s too big for it and her treat is soiled, for now.
Strollers are for babies. The last time I saw one was when my littlest sister was, what, five? We used to have a double stroller so both of my sisters could ride in it. They are only a year apart. My sister wasn’t five, maybe more like three. She is the cutest thing in the world.
i remember pushing your stroller when you were little. Time flies. I can’t believe we are so old. But I am glad you are the way you are. I love you, my sister.
The stroller began to roll and in seconds, had bounced off the sidewalk and into the oncoming traffic. It was a nightmare to begin with- horns honking, people from all sides screaming, the world waiting for what was to happen. Only one man dived after the child and risked all he had for a stranger he’d passed by on a sidewalk.
the stroller is sitting in the garage, away from eyesight
where we don’t have to constantly be reminded of the sweet little girl that was pushed around in it
and the loss of her from our life
A stroller. Who really wants kids nowadays? Certainly not me, considering I have such a long life ahead of me and I am still young. It’s far to early for me to be thinking about the future, the ball that comes with the chain of marriage. Strollers are such ugly looking things as well.
I once had a baby in a stroller, and it wasn’t a very good roller. I took her to the park, it got very dark, and then she grew up to be a bowler.
She pushed the old battered stroller across the wobbly road. The life inside was so much more precious than this rusty piece of metal. It deserved more.
Of course. Baby. As if my mind has not been filled with this longing enough. As if I haven’t found out today that another person I know is pregnant. As if I’m not continually searching for the perfect balance of being content with where I am, yet still longing for the child I want.
In the stroller was the youngest, most precious form of life… the first, most beloved addchild of a young couple.
I peered down at yo, sitting in your stroller. You hollered and hollered, and I remember wondering if I was that collicky when I was small. I ran with you. I pushed the stroller, not too hard, though. I ran you around the front yard and you started giggling. I heard and didn’t have to see your face to see that beautiful smile. All I could see were your hands grasping out to touch things that were not there. At age seven, I marveled at how small and intricate your baby-hands were.
I saw a stroller i liked for my son so i went and bought it i lloved that it was graco brand and the desighn was awesome. it had green lieaves adn
since my sister is pregnant, we’ll have to get a stroller. buying one is far more complicated than one would think, so many different details have to be taken into account.
It’d be a lot more romantic if the stroller held a baby. Sure, I cover it up, sure it looks like a baby in there, but I’m only pretending. God help me if someone comes up asking to see the precious little thing… I worry every moment someone will… but, I guess in retrospect, walking around with a stroller won’t get me a baby any sooner….
walking around the beach taking a stroll, watching the sunset and smelling the salt in the air, just awesome!
The stroller has blue and green handles with a baby in the seat. The baby is cute. She licks the stroller apathetically and looks around with her soft brown eyes. Her mother pushes her along a crowded downtown street and the girl giggles at passersby.
He walked down the street idly, acting as thought he rain wasn’t falling in torrents and ruing his meticulous thee piece suit. he paused when the rain stopped overhead and he looked over at the smiling man who held the umbrella. Wordlessly, he twined their arms together and walked with him,
a couple of weeks ago I watched a young couple wrestle a 7 foot long snake into a backpack and then put the backpack into their stroller with a 8 or 9 month old baby girl. i wasn’t sure what to think about that at all.
I saw a really fine little lady and thought:
“I want a stroll-er outta here.”
Haha, get it?
Silently it rolls away from the mother, no cries from either party. The child silently gliding away, never to be seen again. Taken away. Far away. Second on the right straight on til morning.
Stroller, that means babies. Babies mean diapers, which tend to smell. Aparelntly a mother find her babies own poop less smelly than another childs. Maybe its a survival thing. no one wants a kid that smells bad. Iremeber kindergarden and there was always that one smell kid in class. no one wants to be him. Now that im older even less so. But being old isnt all that its cracked up to be, infact, i miss highschool. That was easy, no car, no insurance, lifes good.
Are you happy pushing that stroller up and down the street? Are you pleased that you never became the surgeon you wanted to become because you got knocked up at twenty two? I hope you’re happy that instead of saving lives, you’re pushing a brand new one around like it’s nothing.
a stroller is a carriage to push a baby around in, They can be quite expensive or very cheap, not normally differing all that much. Babies and young children as old as 3 can ride in them and are not recommended for older children.
She pushed the stroller down the dark alleyway, knowing that on the other side people would be in sight. As a homeless woman, she needed some way to convince peole she needed the money. If they thought she had a baby, they would be more likely to give her the money to live another day.
The kid was in the stroller. So was a six-pack underneath, and my flask in the little basket near the handlebar. “Sure hon, I’ll take him for another walk”, and out the door I went.
Stroller, please. LIke i need a freaking stroller. Strollers are for soccer moms and the cool dads… not the aunt, nanny, mom’s friend, blah, blah, blah…
bite me.
She pushed the stroller and didn’t see the ground below it. She didn’t see the sky above her and she didn’t see the green leaves of the tree. She only sat and thought of the emptiness left by the child who didn’t exist.
a baby goes in there and is pushed down the street in it. It is also referred to as a pram. A pram is more of a European term, I doubt the average Canadian, when asked, would know what a pram is.
the stroller was the best stroller in town. It’s wheels were super duper shiny and the population loved to stare at it. It was pink blue and gold! it could hold about 2 fat mexican kids and a black skinny one.
Babies are treated too carefully. We protect them from germs, each other, heights. The stroller, though, is legit, isn’t it?
Stroll with her. Keep her by your side as you brush up against people on the sidewalk; hold her hand firmly but with enough space to let the breeze cool off your sweaty hands. Can you feel it? That burning? That sensation? It’s probably herpes.
The stroller started careening down the hill, dodging the elderly, the ipoded hipsters, the dogs and puppies and all sorts of people until it came to rest daintily among a rosegarden. The baby inside wasn’t all too happy about the thorns stuck in hit’s eyelids, however.
Richard doesn’t walk, he strolls. He saunters. He lazes down the street, all hipster glory, why am I not on my bike? on my unicycle? scarf flutter gently in the breeze, converse shoes tapping out Of Montreal rhythms, three-day scruff on skinny neck. Don’t ask hard questions.