Ten More Years
I took a half-day today, walked past PNC Park as it filled with fans for an afternoon game (Bucs got crushed), and headed home to do some heavy lifting and yard work. On the way home I stopped at the library to drop off an overdue CD, and I was witness to a truly pitiable sight. When it was over I found that I was quite moved; at times we forget how much we have to be thankful for. We take too much for granted, we don't stop to think about those who are far less fortunate.
I leave the library and step into brilliant sunshine. A woman is walking toward me with her son. He's about eight. Here's what I witnessed:
MOM: Buddy, buddy, come on, buddy! Walk right here, right here, right
here. That's it buddy, walk right here, walk right
here.
BOY: (whining)
Mommmmmm!
MOM: Don't walk so fast, watch the curb, the CURB, buddy! Watch the curb...that's it buddy, wait right there, wait right there, buddy, wait right there, wait
right there.
BOY:
Mommmmm!
MOM: No no no! Don't go down the stairs, buddy, don't go down the stairs! Buddy, don't go down the stairs. Stay right there, stay right there, buddy, stay right there, stay right there!
BOY: What?
MOM: Those stairs are too steep, come with me, come with me, buddy, come with me, come on, come on, come on buddy, come with me, over here, over here, come over here.
BOY: (Looks at gently sloping steps, looks confused, shoulders slump, follows mother to handicapped ramp)
MOM: OK, buddy! OK, OK, OK, OK.
Ten more years that poor child has to endure that torment. Provided we don't see him arraigned on Court TV before then.
Know what? Think I'm gonna call my mom. Just to say hello.
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