I had come to the restaurant to write. The place was mostly empty in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. I should have gotten a lot of writing done, but Robert had other ideas.
Robert is a talker. His dad works in the kitchen of the restaurant and had been called in to finish someone else’s shift, so Robert tagged along to wait for him. He quickly struck up a conversation with me.
Robert is in the third grade and he wanted to tell me all about his life. He’s a golfer, he said, but people frequently ask him whether he’s a quarterback on a football team. He and his family have five cats and the one called Boo Bear is is favorite. (Boo Bear sleeps with him.) He’s going to be a firefighter or maybe “something easy” like a landscaper.
There was nothing extraordinary about Robert’s story, but everything about this sweet kid sparkled with life and wit and happiness. That such a thing is so ordinary is extraordinary in itself.
I’m not exactly sure whether children gravitate to me or whether I gravitate to them, but I constantly seem to end up interacting with them. In another restaurant this week, I had another “ordinary extraordinary” encounter.

Do we really need so much ‘stuff’? Do we own it? Or does it own us?
We don’t know how to love until we learn to set our egos aside
Would life be better without news? Maybe it’s all just distracting trivia
Memory Lane is seductive when
If you allow anything to be priority over love and beauty, you’re a fool
How would we see the gang war in Texas if the faces had been black?
Politicians have no right dictating the menu of your kid’s Happy Meal
Why are we uncomfortable when other people aren’t much like us?
What should we do if social media make us lonely, cause depression?