So we’ve covered that I’m a morning person.
I stopped to get coffee on the way to work (don’t worry; I’m keeping this splurge in good regulation) this morning and the chat I had with the girl behind the counter will probably be as amiable as any converstaion I’ll have today. Seriously, people can be so jovial in the morning, as long as they aren’t morning-haters. Those people are next to heathens anyway.
I noticed a girl sitting at a table with her mom. She was in the neighborhood of ten years old, was well-dressed -down to juvenile purple rubber boots- and had two plaits of brown hair. Most impressively, she was quite absorbed in a book at least two inches thick -and it wasn’t Harry Potter.
If appearances are any grounds for inferences, she looked quite grown-up and self-assured. She didn’t stir when her mom got up for the restroom and left her unattended for the space of several minutes.
As I watied in line, I snuck a peek back at her and saw her split the biggest grin -it had to have been something she read, nothing else amsuing was happening. She paused and partially closed the book, as if to reflect for a moment on whatever had made her smile. Then she took a bit of her bagel, perhaps sipped her iced coffee* when my back was toward her, and austerely continued reading.
You don’t see that happening anywhere at 7pm.
*She must be grown-up if her mom is buying her iced coffee. And in the nature/nurture debate, I’d say she acts like a grownup because she is treated like one.
[As appeared in Mythopoetic on March 5, 2009.]