Past Lunch Chat
It was a typical workday. As my 3 year-old son was getting off the car to enter school, he said, “Daddy, I want to visit your clinic today.”
“Ok,” I said. He’s usually a boy who knows what he wants.
After two hours, his head popped in the clinic. “Hello Daddy,” he said, “I’m here. I’ll just be outside waiting for you.”
It was about a 4 hour wait. There were many people still left to see.
He was game and spent the day chatting up some patients, playing with the secretaries, or scribbling on paper. At around 2 o’clock in the afternoon, he popped in again and asked, “Are you gonna be finished soon? I’m starving!”
I packed up and brought him to the restaurant on the first floor. It was past the lunch hour rush, and we spent a leisurely time just enjoying each other’s presence.
He would tell me stories about his day. He spoke fondly of his classmates. He told me how his older brothers would sometimes hurt him, sometimes help him. We were chatting, and I didn’t mind spending the next hour with him.
The old lady who sat in the adjacent table stood up to go. As she passed our table, she said, “I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation. He speaks so well for someone so young. I didn’t realize he was this young. And he’s very lucky to have a Dad like you listening to him.”
Then she was gone.
“What did that lady want?” my son inquired.
“She said that you were a bright boy with a happy father,” I said.
“Oh,” he continued, and beamed a big smile that made my long day worthwhile.
In case you’re wondering, I am writing this down to preserve this memory in my mind.