I was at a wedding rehearsal dinner and after eating lobster legs with sticky sauce, I needed to go wash my hands. So I got up, went to the women's restroom and tried to open the door. It was locked, so I settled back to wait. Then the door cracked open. I looked in, didn't see anybody, and then looked down. It was Bree, the pastor's kid. She is a precocious six-year-old, and she looked up at me with a familiar mischievous twinkle in her eye. I wasn't exactly sure what she was doing in the bathroom...
"Bree...can I come in? I need to wash my hands," and the door opened a little wider. It wouldn't have surprised me if she had told me that she was hiding from her older brother. But she wasn't.
"Yeah, I can't get the water on," she said as she let me into the bathroom and turned quickly to the sink.
"Let me see if I can help," I told her. Then I turned on the water. "Here's the problem," I said, "The handles turn the opposite direction." Bree started to wash her hands.
"Is the reason you need to wash your hands because of the sauce on the lobster legs?" she asked me.
"Yes," I answered, "they were very sticky."
"I know," she said with all the authority a six-year-old can possess. "All the food is weird." We were at a Japanese restaurant, and they had served us course after course of traditional Japanese food, including squid, jellyfish, duck, fish, and then the lobster. Not exactly kid-friendly cuisine.
"Do you want some soap?" I asked her.
"Yes," she said and stuck her hands under the soap dispenser, which I dispensed for her. And then she rinsed her hands off.
"You know, they are serving rice right now," I told her.
"Oh goody, I love rice! It's my favorite!" she said. She ran quickly out of the bathroom and over to her table. I followed her out at a more conscientious adult pace.
"MOM, ROBYN HELPED ME WASH MY HANDS AND I WANT SOME RICE!" I heard her say to her mother in a loud voice.
"Hi Robyn," Karen said with a quiet smile as I walked back to my table.
"Hi," I said with a smile and a wave. I kept walking back to my table, chuckling to myself about exuberance and passion, even if it was only for rice.
