I walked into the guest bedroom early that morning only to see the orange quilt limp, without holding a tiny body. Where could a three year old go so quickly? But as I raised my eyes to the window sill I saw the heels of a red pair of Crocs. Only a glimpse but enough to see a tiny figure connected to them and hiding behind the window blinds.
“Whatever are you doing there,” I asked my grandson.
“I’m looking for diggers,” the boy with the wide smile answered.
I paused a moment trying to remember what diggers were. Then it dawned on me: he wanted to see the construction vehicles that were building another condo unit in front of our townhouse.
Not only did my husband and I see daily a half a dozen dump trucks and earth rollers who churned up our North Carolina red dirt, but we now view an a purple designer colored dumpster that stretches out for twenty feet in front of our walkway. Not the first think I like to see when exiting my house but it did nothing but delight the three-year old. And the mammoth trucks that scooped up dirt and piled it high was only more entertainment for him.
We’ve felt like we were living next to a New York subway. Every time the “diggers” put a load of cement in the scooper and deposited it 20 yards from our house, our building shook.
“Was that dynamite again?” I asked.
My husband rolled his eyes. “Just dropped a few pounds of cement. Nothing big.”
Oh yeah?
My writing desk shakes.
My teeth chatters
My walls rattle.
But there, in the early morning light stood a three year old peering outside, looking for adventure.
“Come on, let’s go downstairs and you can see the diggers better.”
In our family room I opened up the blinds. His eyes lit up like he was seeing a Hollywood Pixar movie. Could his grandparents have ordered a better show?
Guess it depends on your perspective. High adventure or a major nuisance. Just like life.
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