Catch a wave, and you're sitting on top of the world

I took my usual lunch salad (romaine, grilled chicken, mushrooms, broccoli, avocado, croutons, creamy Caesar dressing) to Union Square Park today to enjoy an exceptionally fine spring day.

The warm temperatures and clear skies assured that the park was filled with sun worshippers, and I had to stroll for quite some time before I found an open spot on a bench.

Finally, I hit the jackpot: an open seat, and right next to two adorable infants -- I'd guess they were nine months old or so -- in strollers being tended to by their Polish nannies.

I immediately tried, as is my wont, to engage the two kids, but the little boy was too busy with his toys to take notice of me. But when I waved at the little girl, who of the two was situated farthest away from me, she immediately responded with a big wave of her own.

Even better, she tried to emulate my approach to waving. When I waved open-palmed, moving my entire hand from right to left and back again -- the "Y'all come back now" wave, as I like to call it -- that's exactly how she waved. And when I switched to the fingers-bent-over-the-palm-at-a-90-degree-angle-and-wiggled approach, she gamely tried to do the same.

I don't know if it was her first attempt at this second variation or not, but she struggled with it a bit. But she was willing, if not especially able, and her efforts were appreciated.

But the entire time, she kept calling out to me, "Bye-bye." She, like most infants, had been taught that the activity of waving is related to partings, and she seemed quite perplexed, if not downright consternated, that I kept waving but never taking my leave. Throughout our time together, she continued to wave and offer her farewells, but, though I willingly waved back, I resolutely remained where I was seated, savoring my salad.

At first, she seemed to resent my refusal to play by the rules as she understood them, but an agreeable sort, she soon came to accept my unfamiliar ways even as she continued to bid me adieu.

Finally, with my lunch nearly complete, the nannies began to gather up the various tools of their trade in preparation for their departure. Finally, my new friend and I could wave goodbye and mean it.

Which we did, to her delight. All was again right in her world. She and this odd stranger had again waved and said their goodbyes, and one of them -- her, as it happened -- had exhibited the good sense to take her leave.

What's more, the little boy finally decided to acknowledge my existence, too. As his nanny stepped behind the stroller and began to wheel him away, he put down his toy, looked up with me with a three-toothed grin, and, waving frantically, exclaimed, "Bye-bye!"

Posted by brett at 03:06 PM | TrackBack