Dear reader, it may or may not surprise you to know there numbers, among my acquaintances, a disproportionate number of little old men. Why?
Because I adore them, that's why.
And it just so happens there are two such gentlemen, though hardly little and old, living in my neighborhood. One calls me Dolly on occasion, either to be affectionate or perhaps because he forgets my name. The other comes to my doorstep during the holidays bearing treats from a French bakery.
There are no words to say how lovely it feels to bask for a moment in their attention. It often catches me off guard and brings a tear to my eye.
At any rate, the other day they invited me to their weekly rendez-vous at a local donut shop, a long standing tradition which has gone on for many years. Imagine that! I was so excited I practically put my hair in pigtails and skipped all the way downtown.
When I arrived, however, I was pretty nervous. What if they didn't like me? What if we had nothing to talk about? What if I ruined their man vibe?
But as soon as they saw me they called out my name, got up from their chairs, and gave me a hearty hug. One insisted on taking me over to the counter and letting me choose whatever donut I wanted. As many as I wanted. And then he recommended the chocolate milk.
I don't know...can you imagine anything so nice? Being treated to donuts by two distinguished gentlemen on a crisp Wednesday morning? Feeling as if they were genuinely thrilled to have you there? Being included in their conversation, much of it directed your way? Being asked about your children, their schooling, and summer plans? Hearing them say what lovely girls you have? Getting to know one another while talking about politics, cultural differences, travel, and the occasional corny joke?
It basically felt as if the entire morning was one gigantic bear hug.