Stop Touching People You Don't Know - A Very Short Story

This is an actual event that occurred on Saturday, April 28, at Procession of the Species.

So we (Traci, Josie, and I) are standing on a street corner in downtown Olympia, Washington. The corner of Fifth and Legion, to be precise, at the other end of the block from Wind Up Here, across from the park, and kitty-corner from Eve and Roarke's place. We're waiting for the parade to begin, and this little kid, somewhere between the ages of 2 and 4, comes barrel-assing across the street, mother in his wake. I'm on a planter box, and there's mounded up dirt and plant material, and the kid is a little unsteady so he grabs my legs as he passes by. He's so short that I hadn't really seen him, and it scared the crap out of me to be grabbed, so I jumped a bit.

Then the kid's mom, while she's chasing him, says, "stop touching people you don't know." And I busted a gut as did Traci and Josie. It wasn't just what she said that was so funny, it was the really exasperated tone of her voice and the way she said it, which made it clear that this wasn't the first time she's had to tell the kid this particular piece of wisdom. She said it the way that we tell our kids to use the napkin instead of their sleeves, automatically.

The other thing that makes it funny, to me anyway, is that Stop Touching People You Don't Know is excellent life advice. Many people would do well to heed it.