Kindergarten orientation means A. gets to enjoy an unexpected day o’ fun. Each time he talks about today’s plans he adds another thing to the list. Mini golf. Chuck E. Cheese. The Cone. The library.
The Cone is an area favorite, a seasonal ice cream shop fashioned in the shape of a soft serve cone. It’s got lots of what a friend calls “whippy dippy” selections: a dozen flavors of soft serve, a dozen choices to dip.
Several ride-on toys beckon the kids to finish up quickly because there’s more fun this way. For a quarter, a child can transport himself to the moon or be Superman’s sidekick in a souped up speedster.
A few more years and A. won’t be able to ride these anymore. Watching him today, I realize how much he’s sprouted since last summer. He squeezes his body into one and tosses his arm around a child-sized worm before the apple starts to shake.
“Next stop, Monster Mini Golf!” I say to motivate A. to wrap it up. I walk over to the worm and place a quarter on the dashboard next to the start button. I want it to be somewhere a child will find it.
A. smiles his approval. “Maybe that kid will find it,” he says as we pass a little boy on the way to the ride. “Or him!”
“Sometimes it’s better not to know,” says Grandpa who after yesterday’s all-school work day has earned himself his own day o’ fun.
“A., what would you do if you found it?” I ask.
He pops his eyes wide and his mouth forms a small “O” of surprise.
I watch his reflection in the rearview mirror. That’s exactly the reaction I was hoping for.