The other day I got something that a parent of a kid like mine – a kid with a lot of negative labels – doesn’t get all that often. A complete and total stranger told me I have a “good kid.”

Let’s set the scene.

I got a new phone that did not activate. I did everything you’re supposed to do, but my cell service stubbornly stuck with the old phone. So, with my husband out of town, I dragged my kid up to the cell phone store. On a Saturday.

The little storefront was packed. The guy at the door pointed us to a table, and we sat down. Without a fuss (and to my surprise), child handed over my old phone so the guy could look at it. While the guy helped me call the number that would switch my service, my kid played on the iPad. When there was a lull, he leaned over and whispered in that very loud stage whisper only little kids do, “What his name?”

“His name is Bob,” I said, reading the guy’s name tag.

“I can talk Bob?” he whispered.

“Sure, you can talk to Bob if you want,” I said.

He turned and in a huge exaggerated voice (as if Bob hadn’t just heard the entire exchange) said, “Hi, Bob.”

“Hi,” said Bob, with a smirk, clearly trying to suppress a grin.

For the rest of our time there, Castle would occasionally share his iPad with Bob. At the end as we left, Bob smiled and said, “You have a good kid there.”

I know, Bob. I know. It’s just nice that you see it too.

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