Sunday, July 29, 2012

Paper Problem

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.  

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