October 19, 2001 - Friday
Today I tell much the same story as this past Tuesday. Harry and I went for a lovely walk down our autumn tree-lined street at the gentle pace of a toddler. But, this is an even better story because it was a scene straight out of the imagination of, I dare say, any potential parent.

It started out the same as usual with Harry running off down the road, then stopping to see the neighborhood dogs from across the street. Yet right away, Harry seemed slightly more thoughtful than usual. For example, instead of waiting for my hand when a car would appear, Harry immediately would move to the side of the street, a couple times even before I said "car coming," and then turn to see the car and watch it go by before moving back out into the road. He objected, as usual when I insisted on holding his hand as we crossed the intersection at our corner, but then happily strode down the street picking up rocks and sticks and throwing them into the trees beside the pavement.

But, what really made today special was Harry's talking. He always talks and today he talked about the usual things: throwing rocks, planes in the sky, and birds in the trees, even, as he has started to do, a little bit about the things he had done today. But today, he didn't just babble as he marched forward or looked around in fascination. Today, he turned his head in my direction as he spoke and looked up at me like we were having a real conversation. And, we were. Father and son were having a conversation walking down the street in our hometown talking about the planes and the birds and throwing rocks into the nearby pond, like boys always do.


Comments, opinions?