The Cafeteria Kid

The kid steals a grandmother's heart

The Cafeteria Kid

The Mohawk hairstyle is the first thing I noticed about the kid in the cafeteria. His hair stands three inches tall and extends from his blonde eyebrows to the fuzzy nape of his neck. With his soft wavy ash blonde hair and dark brown tips, the hairdo suited him.

With brown eyes wide open, his eyes glint with humor and playfulness. His smile is dimple to dimple, bright and boyish.

I fall in love with this young man as I would a grandchild. He is, in my grandmotherly opinion, adorable. Our meeting lasts only a few minutes on that sunny winter day. However, I will always remember it.

The day we met was as usual a mundane shopping day, and as usual I wanted a slice of pizza at the local warehouse cafeteria. After gathering my plate, I looked around for a vacant vinyl table. Wouldn’t you know? There’s the kid. We, of course, spied a table at the same time.

He and I look at each other without worry. In mere seconds, we had sensed a common grandmotherly and kid’s competitive streak.

I believe he saw a trustworthy grown up. Our eye-to-eye moment is sealed with a smile and a grin. Seconds later, I raise my fists in an old-fashioned boxing style. After all, I am somewhat old fashioned. The kid without missing the challenge raised his hands and arms in a perfect karate movement. Our interaction takes moments. Within that moment of fun and camaraderie, I know the duel for the white vinyl table was the kid’s.

Hoping for a compromise, I graciously ask, “How many are in your group?”

His reply is puckish yet respectful. Raising a handful of fingers, he says, “Five"

Okayyy, kid, you win.” And I walk away from the white vinyl table waving a wiggly five finger goodbye.

Thirty seconds later he pointed with enthusiasm and at the top of his young lungs, “Hey lady! “There’s one for you!”
I love his enthusiasm and raise a thumbs up in his direction

The ten year old, whose name I may never know, rewarded me with a vibrant smile that only an innocent young man can share with a grownup. He is happy.

My steps are lighter. My shoulders are back and my spine erect. My day is more carefree. The kid is my gift and reward. I, too, am happy.

I will never forget the cafeteria kid.