I open the door walking into the laundromat. There is a ~6-year-old girl and her father pulling their clothes out of the dryer to fold. I look at him, and as is my norm, I say, “Hey there, buddy.” That little girl gave me the dirtiest and meanest look I had seen for a while. She stares at me in anger for a couple of seconds, and then says, “My dad isn’t your buddy, he doesn’t even know you.”

After contemplating for the brief moment the humor of it not yet occurring to his daughter that he may know somebody she doesn’t, I replied to her, “But someday he could be, so shouldn’t I treat him like he is?”

She was a little taken aback as she considered that response. I started loading a machine. I look up and see her looking at her dad for some guidance. I could tell he appreciated what I said, but he looked at her, trying to look neutral, giving a slight indication of “I don’t know”, leaving it for her to figure out. She then came over to help me load the machine, beginning that process of questions and “can I do that?”

I went to get change from the machine, letting her try to fit the bill into the slot. She was having to give a great stretch to reach it, and it was hard for her to keep the bill straight enough for the machine to take. I see that father patiently watching, but eventual he had break-up the good times because they needed to catch the bus.

It turns out they were in the process of moving in with her mother, making sound like it was a move of desperation rather than desire. To some degree, she was truly feeling stressed and scared, and in that moment of pain with distrust, I gave a positive focus. Hopefully, I planted a little seed that can be fed and grow, so that someday she could make that same difference with a simple, “Hey there, buddy.”

That was one of the good moments of laundry day.

– Duckin’ Kev