I took the kids to Wendy’s for lunch yesterday before an epic trip to Target. It was pouring rain but they still wanted to eat inside vs. going thru the drive-way because this location had couches and a fake fire they like to sit next to. It’s a circus trying to feed them on those couches; especially while they attempt to put together the intricate plastic pieces that somehow form a Whale included in the kid’s meals. What ever happened to good old-fashioned Beanie Babies? We ran in from the rain, ordered, and got settled on the couches. I walked backwards to the drink station to fill up our cups in order to keep an eye on them. I was distracted and multi-tasking when I heard a girl’s voice ask me “How many kids do you have?” I looked to my right and saw a petite woman with Down Syndrome in a Wendy’s uniform wiping down the metal spouts on the drink machines. “I have 3!” I replied holding cups in my armpits while reaching for covers and straws. “Wow. You are really lucky” she said in a pleasant, cheerful tone. I stopped what I was doing and looked right at her. I had not heard anyone say that to me before. It was always “Wow, you’re hands are full” or “You look like you could use some help” or “You’re brave, we stopped at two kids.”
I smiled at her and said, “You know what? You are absolutely right. Thank you. I am very, very lucky.” “Well, have a great day!” she waved as she went back to cleaning. “You too, honey” I tilted my head with my hands full of cups and my heart full of pride.
And then I walked back to the kids a little more mindfully than when I walked away….and prepared to negotiate the ratio of chicken bites to fry bites with nothing but happiness.