I arrived at the airport early today, several hours before my flight. I did so to accommodate my son, giving him a few bucks for driving me to the airport (rather than paying it in parking or to a taxi service). I did so to spend a bit of time with him, and it is wonderfully convenient.
It’s easy for me to work at the airport. Wifi. My laptop. My phone. A few files. Today I did, for about three hours.
The table I chose to work at was next to a moving walkway. Sometimes it was heavily occupied. At other times sparsely. Mostly, I was focussed on my work.
However, I couldn’t help but look up each time I heard a child giggling as he or she raced what I assume were parents who were not on the walkway. Moms and Dads walking very quickly. Kids picking up their pace. Each eyeing each other and escalating the speeds. Shouts of caution from the parents — “Watch out for the people in front of you!” “Careful at the end!”
It was a game, in which the adults became kids. I’ve done this enough with my own kids over the years. It was fun to see 8-10 times today.
Joy is like that I suppose. It doesn’t really interrupt the good work I was doing. It enhances it.