Smacked

I walked in the door.  Two small children ran up to me.  I was waiting for the about-face and run back to mama that often happens when a child you don’t know approaches you and then realizes they don’t know you.  Surprised, pleasantly, they came right to me.  Like they knew me.  The oldest, about 5 years old, started talking to me.  Non-stop.   The youngest, not yet 2, just stood.  Almost on my toes.  And looked straight up.  He said “grandma”.   And that’s what he called me for the next hour or more that I was there.  Often, he climbed into my lap.  And down.  And back again.  Peppering me with “grandma”.  When I left he wanted to go with me.  He said “grandma…kiss”.

I looked to his mother.  I’m hesitant to allow such things with people’s children I don’t know.  Safety for the child FIRST and always.  She smiled at me.  I turned my face towards the mama and let the young child kiss ‘grandma’ smack on the cheek.

There’s no great wrap up to this little story.  It happened.  It felt so up-lifting.  It was just, simply, nice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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