Hey friends, it's Rosie here.
Welcome back to Radio Headspace.
The other day I was at the grocery store.
Early, right when they opened.
That's my time.
No crowds, no parking lot chaos, just spaciousness and the sound of refrigerators waking up for the day.
I was cruising down the cereal aisle, scanning boxes I didn't really need,
when out of nowhere, a tiny human came barreling in.
He was maybe three years old, running at full speed, arms flailing like he was trying to take flight.
Behind him, his mom, chasing after him, half laughing, half pleading.
He didn't see me.
He ran straight into my leg and bounced back on the floor.
Oh no, I said, instinctively reaching down.
He looked up at me, stunned for a split second, and then came the cry.
Full body, immediate, no hesitation, tears, wailing,
the type of cry that fills the entire store and a shrill you feel on your entire body.
His mom scooped him up and started consoling him.
You're okay, you're okay, you're okay, she said, rocking him gently.
But the more she tried to calm him down, the louder he got.
His face was red, his body rigid, his little fists clenched like he was holding onto something much bigger than him.