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Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

The Slice

Meeting Hazel

Yesterday, at just about this time, I saw a co-worker in a grocery store. He was pushing one of those toy-car carts that a little kid can ride in.

Seated in the toy car was his preschool daughter, Hazel. Though I had never met her in person, I have initiated quite a few conversations about her in the last few years. I like hearing about her adventures in growing up. And I think it is safe to say I root for her, like I do all of my colleagues' children.

So, anyway, I was delighted to have an opportunity to say hello to Hazel. I have always liked her name.

Well, let me tell you. This kid is a total sweetie. I mean, she simply could not be any cuter. Four stars.

Unfortunately, she mistook me for Godzilla and withdrew just a tad. It happens.

But the truly odd thing about our encounter was totally my doing.

I introduced myself to her as "Mr. Turner."

Since when did I start doing that?

I'm all for kids respecting adults and recognizing authority figures and all that. But "Mr. Turner"?

If I had it to do over, I would invite her to address me by my first name. And I would assure her that I do not devour small children. Well, hardly ever.

So what do you do in that situation? How do you introduce yourself to young children of friends?



The Slice

The online home for Paul Turner's musings and interactions with disciples of The Slice.