I was having a nice, long lunch with Carolyn (HI, CAROLYN!) when a little blonde streak zoomed past us.
I watched with amusement as the cutest little kid in Crocs you've ever seen carefully chucked coins into the nearby fountain and zoomed away.
I had my camera with me, but just wasn't fast enough to get any shots.
It may have been the mouth full of taco.
Besides, I hesitate to take photos of kids I don't know.
Then it happened again.
And again, the little bugger was just too fast for me.
Then, fast as could be, he was there AGAIN!
This time, though, I was ready.
I grabbed my camera, a couple of coins and a business card ... and followed him.
As is often the case, I did my best to convince his parents I wasn't a weirdo.
(Weird? So I've been told. But the older I get, the more I embrace it.)
I answered a few questions, gave them my business cards, and was introduced to Preston ... the fastest kid in the Upper Midwest.
A few coins in hand, we all trouped back to the fountain.
Little Man had a process.
He would first approach, measuring the distance.
Heck, for all I know, he was calculating trajectory.
He was pretty smart, after all.
How do I know he was intelligent?
It became clear to me when he employed the same method I use to execute anything requiring thought and skill.
Tongue out, eyes focused.
Those of us with any modicum of intelligence often will run a pre-drop test.
Another hallmark of Mensa-quality brains?
When testing doesn't go the way it should, we adapt.
Then we look really, really pleased with ourselves.
Look at that face.
He's probably figuring out what to say about that awesome drop on Facebook.
Or, you know ...
What to title his blog post.