Late this afternoon I was at work in my home office when I heard someone crying.
I lifted my ear to the sound.
It was a child crying.
It sounded like it was coming from my front lawn.
I peered out the window but the only thing I could see was my neighbor's car in the driveway next door.
I stepped out on my front porch to an unseasonably warm and beautiful day.
The child was crying hard... raging... really yelling.
"I hate... I really HATE..."
I couldn't catch whatever it was that was hated.
I noticed that my neighbor's car window was rolled down.
My neighbors have two boys -- the older one is nine and the younger one is eight.
They are both long-haired, extraordinarily good natured, skate boarder dudes.
Whenever you ask either one of them how they are doing they ALWAYS respond with an enthusiastic,
I found the nine year old sobbing in the car's back seat.
"What's the matter, bud?" I asked.
The look of surprise on his face was priceless. I had startled the heck out of him.
He sucked his sobs in as quickly as he could manage and said,
"Hmmmm... that sounds like more than nothing," I said.
"Well... I'm just not happy with how some things are going right now," he told me.
"Is there anything I can do or do you just need to have a good cry?" I asked.
His face was red hot.
"I guess I just need a good cry," he said.
"I understand. A good cry sure does help me sometimes. I just wanted to check on you, but I'll leave you to it."
I walked back into my house, grabbed my keys and left an hour earlier than usual to pick up The Mayor and The Rooster.
We went to a park we'd never been to before and soaked in the warm sunshine.