We went to a small café. My husband and I, with our two kids, walked in, ordered, and stepped out onto the front porch of the place to find a table. There were none.
Just as we were about to head back inside, an older
man stood up, smiled, grabbed his coffee cup, and said, "It's getting hot out here. I'm going to finish this," he held up his coffee, "inside." He gestured to his table. We said no. He should finish his coffee. We were fine inside. And we thanked him. But he insisted it was just "good timing".
My family enjoyed the gorgeous day in late August when it should have, indeed, been too hot but it wasn't. It was about 75 degrees, sunny, and breezy. Perfect. Partway through our meal, the man who gave up his table for us walked out of the café. I thanked him again. He said he saw a family of four walk in and he was taking up a whole table and wanted to move for us. He was only one person, after all, and his wife was in the hospital. Normally, since she was in a wheelchair, they would have taken up a lot more room. We chatted with this man about his life and where he lived and how often he visited the cafe (a lot) and when his wife was due home from the hospital (in a few days).
Eventually, he said, "I'll let you all finish your lunch."
My husband and I said that it was nice talking with him and wished him and his wife well.
My seven-year-old thanked him and smiled and waved.
My ten-year-old Aspie said, "This
cream soda is really fizzy."