Sidewalk Hierarchy

My favorite thing about living in Reston – beyond the pools and the trees and the convenience and the community feel – is, without a shadow of a doubt, the path system.

I don't know what I would do without the paths. They're entertainment for my kids and a free gym for me. They're well-maintained and scenic and wide enough that I can pass someone while pushing my enormous double jogging stroller and no one has to step off the asphalt into ankle-deep mud or a snowdrift.

We use the paths as much as we can, but there are times – desperate, shameful times – when we are forced to use sidewalks.

I don't have a problem with sidewalks when I am walking by myself, unencumbered by 60 pounds of children in their wheeled torture device (that's their sentiment, not mine), but when we're all out and about together, it gets a bit more complicated. There's not enough room for the stroller AND someone else on the same sidewalk.

Enter the awkward hierarchy of Who Gets the Sidewalk Right of Way.

Even when pushing the stroller, I will still always attempt to vacate the sidewalk in favor of the street for elderly people. That one's a total no brainer. I tend to base a lot of my Sidewalk or Street calls on age, as a matter of fact – I don't really think much about making way for a mom pushing a single stroller (my load is bigger, after all; she can move onto the street with more ease than I can) unless that stroller appears to contain a tiny baby. All hail the fragility of a newborn baby. Seriously, take the entire sidewalk, I don't care. The person getting more sleep is better at maneuvering, anyway. (I am just so happy that I am finally the person who is likely getting more sleep than someone else – it was a long time coming.)

But the rest? Totally up for grabs. I tend to think my stroller trumps two adults walking next to each other, since I would have to haul that thing off a curb to make room while all they have to do is rearrange themselves into a single-file line, but I have been proven wrong there before, and I may still be bitter about it. Okay, yes, I'm definitely bitter. How hard is it to walk single file for three whole steps? Not all that hard, I promise you.

I also favor stroller over a single dog, but perhaps would concede sidewalk pole position to two dogs. After all, two dogs are more unwieldy (leashes! tangled! everywhere!) and my children are neatly contained by nylon straps in what generally amounts to a glorified wheelbarrow, which makes it easier for me to control them in a street. But what REALLY gets me confused is children riding bikes. I don't necessarily want small children riding their bikes into the street, but how much easier is it for ONE person to ride into the street than THREE? I'm telling you, walking on a sidewalk is emotionally taxing.

I need a Sidewalk Handbook. Correction, what I need is for everyone else to have a Sidewalk Handbook, because I obviously already know what I'm doing. I just have to get the word out.