I was out for my recuperative walk around the block this morning, feeling the strength return slowly as I prepare to rejoin the working class. The walking cane I take with me is there just in case I run out of steam and I haven’t used it in a couple of days, standing straight and breathing much easier now.
There’s a house about three fourths the way around where a couple of kittens visit with me each time I make my rounds, about 8 months old from their size. One’s white with gray patches while the other is mostly a dark charcoal grey with sandy patches. I bend down and let my knees touch the curb and these two come running for a chance to purr and rub.
Yesterday a couple of young boys were playing across the street when I stopped by to visit the kittens and they thought it a little odd that a stranger would be playing with their kittens. They didn’t seem to mind and their mother watched from the open front door just to make sure I wasn’t a danger. We talked for a few minutes, explaining about my surgery and how I’ve been walking past each day.
This morning as I walked I saw the boys going from the house across the street, as if they were selling something. They asked if I had any kids and I nodded, then added, “I have two grandchildren too.”
“That’s great”, said the one,”… and how old are they?” I explained that one was 2 and the other was 5 going on 6. “Then you’ll want to buy some of these toys were selling!” They opened up a back pack and dumped everything on the sidewalk leading up to their house. One had a small poster that was folded and creased, “How about this, does he like trucks?”, then pointing to a book, “Is the older one a girl?”
I’d run into the traveling yard sale, a couple of kids with enterprise etched into their souls making a couple of bucks through sheer determination selling off toys they no longer wanted. There was a pair of radio controlled cars, a monster Dodge truck and handful of beads and bangles and even a silver die cast metal Cobra.
“How much you want for the Cobra?” pointing to the only object that I might be interested in. It would look neat next to my green BMW Z3 Coupe on the mantle over the fire place.
“Three dollars?... two?” Then the other jumped in, “A dollar and a half?” I always thought it was my job to whittle the price down but these two had no idea what I was willing to pay as they made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.
“Okay, you’ve got a deal.” I picked up the Cobra and it looked like it was in pretty good shape with only a minor ding; hardly noticeable. “I don’t have my wallet on me and I live just around the corner. Will you trust me to come right back?” I waved at the mother standing at the front door and asked if she had authorized the yard sale as she nodded back and smiled.
A few minutes later I returned with 5 one dollar bills and handed it to the young man, “Is that enough?” His eyes lighted up at having scored big time and we shook hands to complete the deal. I made sure to hand him my business card to give his mother, still watching from the sidelines. The boys loaded up their backpacks and were one step closer to achieving the American dream.
There’s a house about three fourths the way around where a couple of kittens visit with me each time I make my rounds, about 8 months old from their size. One’s white with gray patches while the other is mostly a dark charcoal grey with sandy patches. I bend down and let my knees touch the curb and these two come running for a chance to purr and rub.
Yesterday a couple of young boys were playing across the street when I stopped by to visit the kittens and they thought it a little odd that a stranger would be playing with their kittens. They didn’t seem to mind and their mother watched from the open front door just to make sure I wasn’t a danger. We talked for a few minutes, explaining about my surgery and how I’ve been walking past each day.
This morning as I walked I saw the boys going from the house across the street, as if they were selling something. They asked if I had any kids and I nodded, then added, “I have two grandchildren too.”
“That’s great”, said the one,”… and how old are they?” I explained that one was 2 and the other was 5 going on 6. “Then you’ll want to buy some of these toys were selling!” They opened up a back pack and dumped everything on the sidewalk leading up to their house. One had a small poster that was folded and creased, “How about this, does he like trucks?”, then pointing to a book, “Is the older one a girl?”
I’d run into the traveling yard sale, a couple of kids with enterprise etched into their souls making a couple of bucks through sheer determination selling off toys they no longer wanted. There was a pair of radio controlled cars, a monster Dodge truck and handful of beads and bangles and even a silver die cast metal Cobra.
“How much you want for the Cobra?” pointing to the only object that I might be interested in. It would look neat next to my green BMW Z3 Coupe on the mantle over the fire place.
“Three dollars?... two?” Then the other jumped in, “A dollar and a half?” I always thought it was my job to whittle the price down but these two had no idea what I was willing to pay as they made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.
“Okay, you’ve got a deal.” I picked up the Cobra and it looked like it was in pretty good shape with only a minor ding; hardly noticeable. “I don’t have my wallet on me and I live just around the corner. Will you trust me to come right back?” I waved at the mother standing at the front door and asked if she had authorized the yard sale as she nodded back and smiled.
A few minutes later I returned with 5 one dollar bills and handed it to the young man, “Is that enough?” His eyes lighted up at having scored big time and we shook hands to complete the deal. I made sure to hand him my business card to give his mother, still watching from the sidelines. The boys loaded up their backpacks and were one step closer to achieving the American dream.
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