I pass empty trash cans at the curb…some on their sides, some still standing…as I approach the last leg of my daily commute, about a block from school.
Up ahead, I see a figure heading toward the street, obviously sent out to retrieve the family’s cans.
But she is not walking. She is dancing. Dancing her little heart out. Exaggerated moves. Arms in the air. Hair flying. Or maybe it’s her cheerleading moves. Either way, she’s making the best of a simple chore by having a good time as she does it.
As I get closer, I see no evidence of headphones. It appears that she is dancing to the music in her head. As my car passes in front of her, she gives me a glance and a wave without interrupting her motion.
I hope she dances her way into school this morning.
That’s what I feel like doing now.