Every morning as I leave for work I pass the neighborhood women, and the few men, who stand on the corner after walking the streets. Men and women of the oldest profession. Parenthood. “But Jenster, people don’t get paid for being parents so it can’t be a profession.” Au contraire, mon frere. Parents may not receive cash for their efforts, but they do receive cards and home made gifts and kisses and hugs… it’s more like a bartering system.
Sometimes I stop in the middle of the street, roll down my window and chat for a few minutes and sometimes I just slowly drive by, waiving furiously and hoping I didn’t miss anybody. I would hate for somebody to feel left out. And then I drive off, feeling a little bit sad because that has never been part of my world.
When my kids were in elementary school I drove them every morning because I refused to let them ride the bus. Where we lived in Arkansas there was one bus for each neighborhood which meant my kindergartner and third grader would have ridden to school with the high school kids. I’m all about educating our children, but not THAT much.
By the time we moved up here I had a high schooler and a middle schooler and that first year I still was having a very hard time getting out of bed and moving in the morning. So there was very little street walking and corner-hanging-out going on for me.
I’ve decided, however, that I’m going to start being a part-time street walker. On Friday mornings, my days off, I’m going to walk up the street with Sookie (the corner usually looks like a dog park) and hang out on the corner, plying my trade in the form of, “When my kids did that I would ____”, and then come home and head to my Bible study.
Then I, too, will be a neighborhood street walker!