Day 250
The boys and I walk at a
leisurely pace on our return from Kroger.
It’s summer. It’s a
gorgeous day. We have donuts. Is there any reason to rush?
“A.? Can you take their paper and put it on the front porch?” I
point to The Enquirer slipped in a clear plastic bag lying on the bottom of a
driveway we pass.
“Maybe they don’t want their
paper moved,” I. says. At nine,
he’s trying hard to find his voice.
Recently, he’s taken to flexing his independence by arguing over the
color of the sky.
“Or maybe,” I counter, “they’ll
open their door and be glad they don’t have to walk all the way to the end of
their driveway in their robe.”
Angus bends over, picks up the
paper and trots up to the front porch where he gently places the paper as if
it’s a fragile gift he’s giving.
“Nope,” I. replies. “I think they’d want us to leave their
paper alone.”
Oh, well. Kindness loses today.
No comments:
Post a Comment