I love my new home. I love my new neighborhood but perhaps I failed to truly appreciate how wonderful it really is. Today I came home and was standing outside with the dogs when I caught a glimpse of someone moving toward me, someone who sparkled in the late afternoon sunshine.
I was fiddling with a solar light when he rounded the corner. When I saw the boy, dressed in a little, black, sequined cocktail dress, black men's dress socks and little, if anything, else, I looked away, pretending to focus all my attention on the glass jar in my hands. I used the moment to adjust my expression, to assimilate the information streaming into my consciousness and as quickly, let it go. I looked up, met his level gaze, returned his slight smile and said "Hey."
"Hey," he said, his smile mirroring my own as he walked by, strolling casually down the street.
I know what I did next was wrong. I leaned out into the street, fumbled with my cell phone and snapped this picture. And in the moments that followed I thought of all the things I should've, could've said...
"You totally rock that dress!"
Too much perhaps.
"Aren't you cold? If you'd hold on a minute, I believe I have a jacket that would fit you."
"What size shoes do you wear? I have boys. They left some snow boots here. I know they don't go with what you're wearing, but you must be cold."
"Are you okay? Can I give you a ride somewhere?"
This wouldn't have been the effect he was looking for perhaps. He wasn't searching for a mom. I don't know what he was looking for but it wasn't a mom.
