So often, it's the children of the world who truly know what's what and who's who. And who are we, as adults, to argue? Especially, when they might be right ...
Let me explain.
So there we were, at American Field in Albany, New York -- chatting with the families of three All-Stars representing Vermont in the 11/12 Little League Softball Eastern Regionals. Now, Northwest was the Vermont team and they wore red -- so the Camp Billings delegation wore red. For me, that meant a red t-shirt with an "Incredibles" logo in the center of it.
As we chatted, I noticed a little toe-headed bugger eyeing me carefully. Was he four? What was he wondering? Whose little brother was he? He milled about for a moment or two and then, a bit timidly, he stepped into the circle of conversation. He stood directly in front of me and gently poked me in the belly to get my attention. Our eyes met.
"I know you," he said, with his emphasis heralding the solving of a mystery.
"You do?" I asked, somewhat suspiciously.
"You're MR. INCREDIBLE!" he announced, as his voice rose with excitement (and the adults began to giggle).
I smiled, and lowered my sunglasses to look him eye to eye ...
"You recognize me even with the hat and the goatee?" I questioned.
"Yes!" He answered, now certain of his discovery and looking up in grand anticipation.
I put a finger to my lips, shushing him gently and with a wry grin, I admitted, albeit dramatically using my hero voice, "Yes, I am ... But don't tell anyone. It'll be our secret."
His face erupted in a gigantic smile and -- whoosh -- he was off, leaving the circle of adults to nearly collapse in shared hillarity over the priceless exchange ... and leaving me to ponder if it was the logo on my chest, my natural heroic aura, or my out-of-shape belly that gave me away ...
Nevertheless ... oh, and Elasti-Girl says "Hi" ...
:-)
