Tiny children make me nervous. They like to be close, touch you, pet your hair, and sit in your lap. Even when you'd rather they didn't do those things... especially after you've just watched them pick their noses, for example. Or cough. All over themselves, their neighbor, and your leg.
Even though they make me nervous, it seems that they like me. I'm not sure why.
For example, today at work a line of tiny children was walking through our hallways on the way to their music class. I happened to be walking back to my office, which was in the same direction as their room. I thought about waiting until the line had passed, but instead chose to merge into an adjacent strip of hallway floor. So there I was, walking down the hallway side-by-side with the line of tiny children, when all of a sudden, there was a tiny hand holding my hand. Shocked, I looked down at a tiny brown face with beautiful eyes wide open, a huge grin, and a giant orange pumpkin crafted out of construction paper pinned to his shirt.
"Hi!" he said. And then grinned.
"Hi, to you," I replied.
We parted ways when we came to my office. Off they went to music class and off I went in search of my Purell...
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1 comment:
i carry a small bottle in that beautiful red bag you got me (ps. the preschoolers want to know if it came out of the dress up box, i take that as a compliment)
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