Our little town of 800 boasts a grocery store, restaurant, pharmacy, clinic, restored Theater, library (that’s where I work), coffee shop, hardware store, antique store, and gift shop/art gallery … all within two and a half blocks.
We live right behind the theater, so I guess that means we live in the theater district.
Everything is walking distance for us … love that about living here.
Yesterday, I walked to the store for a candy bar. (Yes … it is a problem that I live that close to the store and can run over there whenever an indulgence strikes … and to clarify … it was DARK chocolate … I’ve been on a modified Keto eating plan of late.)
On the way back one of my neighbor’s and her son were coming down the street. She was letting her little guy try out his battery powered kid scooter that he was finally old enough to steer without running into her ankles.
After chatting a second, I dismissed myself as I was clearly walking much faster (and had in mind wanting to get home and dive into my chocolate). “I won’t keep you guys … see you later,” I said as a way of escape after a reasonable amount of customary, polite small talk.
“Wait,” called out Little Guy from his little scooter. “I want you to watch me drive.” No whining … just a sweet smile and a sincere invitation.
How could I turn that down.
I slowed my gait and backed up so that it took two minutes instead of one to walk down the street. One extra minute in order to escort Little Guy and His Mom which also perked into a much more meaningful exchange with His Mom in that two minutes.
We crossed the street and came to the juncture where our paths split.
Completely unprompted, Little Guy looked up and beamed.
“Thank you for watching me.”
You would have thought I’d just handed him my chocolate bar (a thought that didn’t even cross my mind in that moment) from the glee.
Two minutes and I completely made a three-year-old’s day. I may have made his whole week.
We moved here to slow down. To relish family … each other … and life … in a more sane and reasonable manner.
Thank you, Little Guy, that this means taking time to watch a kid do something that to him is remarkable. I’ve written about the gift of time before, but the lesson never seems to get fully learned … and unfortunately that is even more true when a chocolate bar is at stake.
I love the small stuff that makes a big difference.
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