Through a Child's Eyes

“Seth, get dressed so we can go to the store.” He flashed me a look that would freeze hell over, and I got the impression he would rather kiss a toad then to be seen anywhere with me. In his teenaged mind, I was “dumb as a stump” and “uncool”; a real embarressment for him.

“Why?” Seth drawled, never taking his eyes off the television. “I’m happy right here.” That child is going to drive me to the funny farm, I thought, gritting my teeth.

“Get dressed . . . now.”

“But my show is coming on in a few minutes. Why do I have to go with you anyway? I’m not a baby anymore.” I counted to ten before I responded. I felt, and I knew I looked, like a spooked cat on a caffeine high.

“Okay Seth . . . here’s the deal. You don’t have to go to the store with me. But,” I said, holding up my hand to stop his premature celebration. “You have to stay with your grandmother while I’m gone.”

“A babysitter? I don’t need Granny to watch me,” he yelped.

I gave him a look that would make a hardened criminal cringe. His defiance melted like a popsicle on hot concrete. “Okay, okay. I’ll get dressed and go to Granny’s house,” he mumbled as he skulked off to his room.


I sighed and rubbed my temples. This is definitely going to be an aspirin popping, soaking in a bubble bath day. A gentle tug on my sleeve interrupted my thoughts.

“I . . .I go? I go in the Dodge,” my toddler, Robert, asked.

“Of course you’re going. I couldn’t leave my big helper behind.”

A few minutes later, a sullen-looking Seth emerged from his bedroom. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

“You’re a ray of sunshine today,” I said putting my arm around him as we walked out the door.

“Don’t touch me! I don’t like people touching me.” Seth jerked away and walked into the garage, re-appearing a few minutes later pushing his bicycle.

“Are you going to ride your bike to Granny’s?” Jonathan ignored me as he straddled his bike and raised the kickstand. “You certainly have a pretty day for a bike ride,” I called to him.

“Whatever,” he yelled as he embarked on the mile-long trek to his grandmother’s house. Argh! That boy has the attitude of a badger, I thought, shaking my head sadly as Seth pedaled away.

Robert knocked on the door of the truck with his small fist. “Hello Dodge. I ready to go now.” I opened the door of the truck and smiled as Robert climbed in and got into the
car seat by himself. He was always eager to go places; each trip was a new adventure for him.

At the store, Robert sat in the shopping basket and occasionally yelled “Hey! I love you,” to other shoppers. Some people smiled and talked to him; others scurried away like frightened birds.

One woman, with a face like a bull terrier, sneered at his sweet remarks as she breezed past. “Mommy, what’s wrong with that lady?” my observant little wonder asked. I was hurt someone could be so cruel to a child.

“Oh her. She’s been sucking on a lemon.”

Contented with my answer, Robert played with the colorful cereal boxes in the cart , and chattered happily to other shoppers. Later, we encountered the unpleasant woman in the dairy section. As we approached, she gave us a look that could curdle the nearby milk. With a disdainful sniff, she turned back and studied a display of butter.

“Hey lady,” Robert called. Oh dear Lord, please don’t let her turn around and look at us. To my relief, she ignored us. Undaunted, Robert continued to call to her.

“Hey lady. Have you been eating lemons? My mommy says you have.” Horrified, I whipped my basket around and raced away like a scalded cat. I spent the rest of the time glancing nervously behind me and around every aisle. I just knew the unpleasant woman was hiding behind a display, waiting to pound me senseless. I could just imagine the newspaper headlines the next day: LOCAL WOMAN AND TODDLER DONE IN BY A CAN OF CREAM CORN.

Finally, our arduous task complete, my little charmer and I paid for our groceries and headed home. After everything was put away, and Robert was given a snack, I sank into my favorite chair. I sighed as it enveloped me in its soothing velvety embrace. I had just closed my eyes when a small hand touched my knee. I opened my eyes and found myself staring into the sky-blue eyes of Robert.

“Wanna go outside?”

“No baby. It’s too hot.” That was an understatement; it was like a sauna outdoors.

“I wanna go outside?” Robert asked, this time a little more insistent. I saw tears gathering in his eyes. The clouds outdoors were rain-laden, but the storm clouds gathering over Robert’s head were even more ominous. I eased myself out of the chair and started toward the door.

“Okay buddy, but just for a little while.”

Robert shrieked in delight and bolted out the door. The storm clouds were disappearing, the late afternoon sun shone gently upon us. I was oblivious to everything as I sat on the porch and pouted like a spoiled child. I am so tired. Doesn’t Robert realize that?

“Hey! Look at the bird.” Robert shouted, pointing at the afternoon sky. Above soared a red tailed hawk. Its cry echoed in the stillness as it circled overhead; for a brief moment, my soul took wings and I soared with him, dipping and swaying in the evening breeze, dancing the ageless dance of wisdom and majesty. I watched the hawk until I could see it no longer.

Robert hopped around excitedly. “Hey! What’s that?” He pointed at the setting sun framed by billowy clouds. The sun’s rays caused the outer edges of the clouds to glow like polished crystal. Hmm. There really are clouds with silver linings, I mused.

“Those are clouds, Robert. Aren’t they pretty?”

“Yeah, pretty.”

The wind picked up, and Robert turned and faced straight into it, smiling blissfully. I remembered the previous summer when a delighted Robert raced down the beach into the stiff ocean breeze. He ran with his arms thrown over his head in reckless abandon, chasing the curious seagulls congregated on the shore.
Robert truly enjoys everything life has to offer. When did I stop? I wondered. Soon a sweaty Seth came pedaling up the drive.

“What are you doing out here?” Jonathan asked, riding his bike towards the porch.

“Hi Seth. Did you see the wonderful sunset?”

“No,” he grumbled. “I was too busy picking my nose.” At that moment, Robert squealed in delight and dropped to his knees. Like an inchworm, he scooted across the porch, trailing behind a bug he had found.

I realized I should face life with the same delight and enthusiasm as Robert did. He saw every day as a new adventure, and wasn’t ashamed to show love and compassion. I was ashamed of all the times I had been too busy “picking my nose” to enjoy the little things in life, too busy to tell people how I felt about them. I grabbed Robert and squeezed him tight.

“Thank you, baby.” I said, choking back a sob.

“Welcome,” Robert grunted. He struggled out of my arms and went in search of his new bug friend.

“What are you thanking him for?” Seth grumbled.

“For teaching me how to enjoy the little things in life.” I watched as Robert again ran headlong into the wind. I would forever be grateful to him for showing me the world through a child’s eyes.