Of my three sons, Mr. B (middle) is the easiest. Mr. T can be prickly, Mr. G can be an obnoxious twerp. Not all the time, mind you, but they have their moments. Mr. B, on the other hand, is just a happy-go-lucky golden child 95% of the time.
Last night I had the distinct pleasure of time alone with him as I drove him to a baseball scrimmage an hour away. He peppered me with questions on the drive, his curiosity extending to billboards and NPR's All Things Considered ("Now what did Walker do?" he fretted at one point--my son!) . He postulated theories about flying and fiddled with the radio dial, settling on classical music for a while and then choosing classic rock (Oh! A child who doesn't care for hip-hop or rap! J'adore!).
He played in the rain, got a base hit each time he was at bat and generally enjoyed himself. On the drive home we settled into our alone time once more.
Halfway home we drove past a former KMart, now shuttered and vacant. "What's that, Mom?" he asked. "An old store--it's out of business now." "Why?" "I guess not enough people shopped there." "That's wrong!" he sputtered.
Then he said this: "They should do something useful with it then. Like tear it down and plant flowers or something."
Green Girl's heart grew two sizes that moment.