Talmage sees the world as a sea of people waiting to become his friends.
I love that about him.
But his total comfort and obsession with talking to everyone
sometimes puts me in interesting situations.
Like the time we went to Office Depot and saw a man with long hair working there
(Talmage hasn't often seen men with long hair)
and as we approached the counter he squealed with awe and delight,
"HEY!! He looks like a girl!"
The man scowled at me and I pretended I didn't notice what had just been said.
Or the time in the waiting room at the OB/GYN
when he started asking a women about her "owies" (age spots and bruises)
and then proceeded to tell her in great detail about the scrape he had gotten a long time ago.
"One day, I was walking with my mom, when SUDDENLY I fell and got a scrape!! It was bleeding and bleeding, and it looked like a strawberry."
These kinds of scenarios occur just about everywhere we go.
If you look at Talmage, it is almost certain that he will start a conversation with you.
He simply LOVES people.
Today's interesting event came about as he was out playing on the balcony.
Mr. Social detected some movement at the small business next door and, spotting a person down below, shouted excitedly,
"My name is Talmage!!! What's your name?"
"Emily," wafted up the response.
I stood in the house listening to the exchange.
"Emily? Cool! Some people are giving us their trampoline, and we're going to pick it up and bring it to our house!"
He continued on sharing details of our lives and then said,
"I drew a picture of when Jesus died for our sins! The black is the nails in His hands, the red is the blood, and the blue is when He came alive again."
I was touched by his pure, innocent testimony
and the way he shared it so freely.
I eventually called to him and told him I needed his help inside
in an attempt to prevent the kind woman below from feeling obligated
to continue this shouted conversation.
"But I want to talk to Emily!" he protested.
I insisted that I needed his help, so he ran back outside and called down,
"Well, I have to help my mom! Her name is Kaitlyn! Or Sister Brady! Bye!"
I smile at his openness,
and sometimes shrink a little with discomfort,
but as I see the world becoming more and more a closed place to be,
I try very hard not to discourage his spontaneous conversations with strangers.
And I learn from the way he assumes the absolute best of everyone
and shares his faith so plainly.
I hope he never loses his positive worldview
and his desire to tell people the things he holds dear to his heart.