An hour later, the five of us still sit around the table, our empty plates in front of us. Madison cleared Liberty’s tray and placed a few toys on it to entertain her. I wonder if other two-year-olds would entertain themselves for this long in a highchair. The guilt of cooping her up in a car for six hours later today eats at me. She needs to run around while she can.

I extricate her from the tray and buckled belt, lowering her to the floor, allowing her escape. Immediately, she ...