I’m running out of time. It’s nearly five o’clock and I haven’t done one random act of kindness. I spent the morning at the gym, the afternoon at a friend’s house and after-school snuggled on the couch with A. watching SpongeBob.
I should be starting dinner but instead I. and I are heading out. It’s a little last minute and we don’t have a clear plan but he’s game. I love that kid. He’s always up for anything.
“An hour,” I tell my husband. I. and I will walk the block until we find a complete stranger’s house with a yard full of leaves.
“Go do random things!” I give him an odd look but understand what he means.
“Roger that.” And we’re off.
The sun’s setting quickly and the skies are threatening rain. I. carries the rake. I’ve got five yard bags tucked under my arm.
“How about there?” I. rakes. I bag. Leaves stick to my jacket. A few stick to my hair.
I wonder why we didn’t have this brainstorm yesterday when the temperatures hovered at 70 degrees. Since we didn’t, we rake and bag and sneak looks at the light in the house to see if anyone notices us.
We line up the full bags along the side of the house and admire our work.
“I think we should ring the bell and run,” Ian suggests.
“I worry that it might frighten her to have someone ring her bell at night and run. Plus, it’s pretty dark. I don’t think she’ll be able to see her yard. What do you think?” I think giving an old lady a heart attack negates any good deed one might do.
“OK.” He’s easily convinced.
“Just think what a nice surprise it will be when she wakes in the morning.”
With that, we head home, two raking bandits in the night.