Perfect Date
Yesterday, he and I were reunited. After a long week apart, I looked into his eyes.
“You’re so handsome.”
Without missing a beat, he replied, “You’re so beautiful.”
A week ago, I had taken him on a date. We started with fresh-squeezed lemonade (a favorite). Perhaps an unpopular opinion, but we both like the pulp.
I knew where he wanted to go next. Unfortunately, I hadn’t planned on it.
“Sorry,” I told him, “we’re not going to Menards.”
He pouted, but only for a moment. Instead, we walked across the street to a little mom-and-pop hardware store. The moment we stepped inside, his eyes lit up.
“Oh! I like this!”
The shop was small, and we wandered down the narrow aisles into the plumbing section, lined with PVC pipe, brass fittings, copper elbows, hose clamps, bins of mysterious fasteners, and enough nuts and bolts to hold together a modest-sized fort.
He was utterly alight, giddy, animated, bopping from one shelf to the next.
The shopkeeper, an elderly gentleman with kind blue eyes, a shock of white hair combed neatly to one side, a navy seersucker button-down shirt, khaki pants, and well-worn leather loafers, walked over.
“How can I help you?”
“Oh,” I said, “we’re just looking around. We’re not after anything in particular.”
My son interrupted.
“It’s our first time at this hardware store! We’re on a date—the perfect date.”
Laughter reached the man’s eyes before it escaped his mouth.
He held out his hand.
“Young man, it’s a pleasure to meet you. You’re my kind of boy. I’m Ramon.”
Ramon led him to the front counter, offered him a caramel, and asked him thoughtful questions about his handyman ambitions.
My son decided he needed supplies to build a box.
“What will the box be for?” I asked.
He thought for a moment.
“I don’t know.”
A pause.
“Anything.”
Another pause.
“Everything.”
We left with a spring, four wheels, assorted lengths of PVC pipe, a magnifying glass, and a handful of screws.
I’m still not entirely sure what sort of box those supplies will produce, but when he hugged me afterward and said, “Thank you so much! This was the perfect date, Mom,” it was worth considerably more than the twenty dollars I spent.
Last night we finally had a chance to catch up on the week. He told me about the assortment of knickknacks and conversation starters he’d built. He also wrote his first short story. The prompt was to invent a constellation.
Astronomy.
It sparked an idea.
Transcription coming soon…