So there we were yesterday at church. Blue and I were returning to Roxy and our wooden bench. Out in the hallway area, I was scooting along in front of him on my custom-made 'scooter stool.' He was stepping nicely. I was helping him shift his weight. Lo and behold, here comes a group of children from their mini-service on their way back to their parents. Well, as is usual, all the children stared, silent, at Blue and I making our way. I have come to learn to ignore these stares. Not much I can do about it, and I have to concentrate on Blue anyway. But this time, one of the church ladies had the smarts to say, "He's practicing walking. Good job. You're doing great."
This so confused me that I didn't look or say anything, but for the first time in years it seemed that someone broke the silence with music. It was a prime opportunity to say at least thanks, or something; but the callous in my brain is too thick.
I'm going to have to find that lady and say something. I didn't even think to look at Blue's face to see if he was proud or happy about the remark. I was just watching his legs and torso as always: step, straighten, shift. Step, straighten, sheesh!
