How we are

 

As I was wonderfully wandering (to match the glorious food) through the airport looking for my gate, I came across a little man—probably about eight—pushing a suitcase almost twice as tall as he. As my wont, I made a smartass comment. He sighed, shock his head and said “well, you know how women are.” I didn’t. But I didn’t tell him. Probably should have. Maybe he could have taught me a thing or two. His mom—a tall thin black supermodelish looking lady carrying a very kind face—revealing her native tongue, replied “Wei Wei” and laughed. Aww kids. Her response relieved my anxiety. One never knows how a parent will respond when you approach their child or for that matter how anyone will respond, understandably, nowadays and made me feel a little bit somewhat like a human. That was nice. We exchanged pleasantries and with my spirits buoyed by a little man making sure his mother and two younger sisters—he was a busy little guy—were being looked after. I left him to herding his womenfolk and went back to wonderfully wandering. The End.