At least five schemes ran through my brain as to how I could prevent ev from wasting her precious morning energy bored in the greasy mechanic shop.
The Asian owner of the shop, wisened face from child-rearing and a gleam in his eye, pulled a scrap sheet of paper from under his metal desk capturing ev’s attention as he slowly but confidently folded over and over that thin sheet of paper into a sturdy fishin’ boat to float in the bath.
She pranced out the door, boat in hand, following the yellow lines on the pavement one foot in front of the other, balancing with her arms.
She peeked through the huge glass window into the mechanic garage and learned about the lifts and the drip pans catching used oil. She saw the mechanics in action.
That Saturday morning ev witnessed where the cars go when broken. She had a lesson in origami physics, and, most importantly, she played a role in everyday life. I was reminded who finds the mechanic shop boring. I was reminded that our mundane is often novel for children. I was reminded of my own childhood curiosity that saw the lines on the pavement everywhere.