Today we were in the check-out line at Target when Abigail waved to the woman in front of us. The woman smiled and waved back. "What a sweetheart," she said in an low-key and polite voice, as if she was telling me she liked my coat or asked what aisle I found my rockin' yoga pants in (yes, we're at the yoga-pants-in-public stage already). As she slid her credit card through the reader, she said, "I have a three-year-old with Down syndrome at home." She smiled at Abigail as she finished loading her bags into her cart and left.
And that was it.
No bullshit discussion about angels and miracle blessings. No desire to spill emotions all over the floor about surprise diagnoses or heart surgery. No gushy hugs. Just a simple "Hey, we have something in common. Have a nice day." Like we both drove Fords or love Chicago or something. It was wonderful. It warmed my introverted, I-hate-people, I'm-not-at-Target-to-make-friends heart.
There is a time and place for the touchy feely and it's not at Target when I feel nauseous and I just spent a good 10 minutes picking up a clothing display that Abigail threw on the ground.
Thank you, lady with a sense of personal space. I wish there were more like you.