Royal Wave 4/28 '15
At the gym today, I was working out on a chest press machine, and, as you do, in between sets, was looking around. I watched a woman collect her toddler daughter from the gym daycare.
This tiny creature, her smooshy plump cheeks red, her light brown hair awry (I imagine she'd just woken from a nap), one hand held by her mother (who was bending over a lot to accommodate their height difference), spotted a Very Large Man, muscled bare arms totally inked, working out hard on a lat pull-down machine by the door to the daycare.
And then rays of sunshine and rainbows and unicorns burst out of her face, and she enthusiastically waved her free tiny chubby hand at him, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
He turned his head to look at her, smiling. Her delight made me laugh out loud. After a moment, her mother carefully guided her down the steps toward me. The girl concentrated hard on those steps. To one so small, they were an ocean to cross. Her mother easily could have just picked her up and carried her out, but instead was giving her the opportunity to navigate those steps on her own.
I started working out again, and as they grew slowly near, I couldn't help but turn my head to watch her pass.
And she spotted me. And she unleashed those rays of sunshine, rainbows and unicorns, full force. And I got the royal wave.