The coffee shop 

I noticed them, I noticed them from the corner of my eye. They weren’t much older than you, right around the typical potty training phase. A toddler. I noticed them laughing hysterically at each other, a coffee table standing as a buffer, each moving opposed to the other as if they were blades on a propeller, never catching one another no matter have fast they spun.
I noticed them, I noticed the way that they were caught up in the moment, the way that is lost to adults, responsibility enveloping the carefree silliness which had been long drained from their everyday. A mother sending repetitious volleys of tense and embarrassing pleas to settle down in such a public place that went unanswered. 
I noticed them, I noticed me smiling, not so much at them then at the situation. I sensed the joy and exuberance they felt in running and playing, like no tomorrow’s mattered and the activities of yesterday where a cloudy insignificant dream, hazy from the waking hours. A glance over to mom showered me with an emphatic stillness as if I could settle her frazzled nerves though parental osmosis.
I noticed them, I noticed my reaction to them, I noticed the difference in my temperament to them playing and carrying on that was quite a different reaction to my personal moments with my own babes. Why don’t a smile at them when they become a bit rowdy as often children tend to do? Why do these strangers get a pass when I would not allow the same lenience for my own. 
I noticed them, I noticed that they were all to natural, doing what children do before the world grabs them and shakes the sweet, the fun, the innocence, the unabashed laughter, the love, the caring, the connection. Finally, now I noticed them. 

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