lets not try on the bus

As I commuted home the other night to Harvard Station, a young boy clutching two paper airplanes eagerly boarded the bus with a young woman laden down with lunch box, purse, and backpack struggling to keep up.

They sat on the seats in front of me. The young woman attempted to keep everything under her control, while the boy took his gloves off. The gloves were quite brilliant, instead of stuffing them into his pockets, he simply let them hang where they fell -limply on the edge of his coat sleeves. Upon closer inspection, they were on a string that (I suppose) ran the length of the sleeves and connected them to one another. They should make those for adults.

Once the gloves were off, the boy carefully, meticulously folded and refolded the wings of his paper airplanes.

“Look at my airplane mummy,” the little boy said.
“It is quite a sharp looking plane,” she replied as the lunch box slid dangerously close to the rather damp floor.
The little boy went on to explain the reasoning behind the additional folding, how it would improve distance, speed and accuracy. “It’ll be a lot more likely to hit the target now,” he exclaimed.
“Lets not try on the bus,” his mother replied.

He grinned, looked at me, and then back to his mother. “Can we go out for pizza in Harvard Square?”

His mother reminded him it was “cold out” (in the teens) and that there was “dinner at home.” With a reluctant sigh he followed her off the bus and into the bustling station.


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