Cub Scout Car Wash

I was driving home from the supermarket this morning when I saw a sign - CAR WASH - and thought what the hell, so I pulled in, and it was a Cub Scout pack of about 30 kids (boys and girls these days!) and their cute parents. Suddenly I was in the midst of a discombobulated Busby Berkley routine, with swarms of yellow-T-shirted kids hosing, scrubbing, sponging, and sham-wowwing me from every direction. Truly, each kid was responsible for about one square foot of car space, and they came at me in waves: first the hosers, then the spongers, and so on. All sorts of kids, all about 8 or 9, I think, each one more earnest than the next. Two minutes later, the car was clean and dry.

Then suddenly I was in a Leave It To Beaver episode. There was a tapping at my window. It was a red-headed, freckled kid about 8, and he indicated for me to roll down my window. He said, "Hi!" I said, "Hi!" I was impressed with his eye contact. He said, "It's four dollars for the car wash." I said, "Yes, I know!" He thought a second, then said, "Did you pay already?" I said, "Yes, I paid, and I gave you kids some extra money, too, because you're doing such a good job." And he looked at me for a few seconds and said, "How much extra?" And I said, "Six dollars extra." And his eyes about bugged out of his face, and then his face split open with this great big honestly happy smile. And he gave me a thumbs up and a wink as his (very cute) dad waved me on.

Is it weird that I pulled around the corner and burst into tears? I guess people with children have these uplifting and poignant experiences with kids all the time, but it's a rare occurrence in my life, and when it happens, I get this complicated wave of - well, joy and regret and hope and despair and gladness and loneliness. But mostly joy.