Smiling at Boys

I was driving out of a petrol station, window down, and the oncoming traffic consisted of two kids cycling their bikes up the hill. I waited. I was amused by their struggle, which they too seemed to be enjoying. I think they were aged probably between 10 and 12, and they were boys. Boys having fun. Boys enjoying their day. The reason I mention their gender is because I was smiling, I was a part of their moment of fun as they passed me and so I had joined their group for that brief second, as we often do when we have an encounter with strangers. And yet, because they were boys, when one of them made eye-contact with me I instantly wavered in my engagement, until he smiled back. And just then, in that split second I wondered, when do we stop smiling at boys?

My son is one-and-a-half, a smiler, a waver, a dog-stalker, and a charmer. He waddles in his nappied-bum, he dons is mad-professor uncut hair, and he engages with everyone. Generally, everyone loves him back. Why wouldn’t they? He’s a (beautiful!) baby. And one day he will be a teenager, possibly with a group of friends, and someone will pass him on the street and won’t want to make eye-contact with him, just in case. But at what moment does that transition happen?

I was delighted when that young boy on the bike smiled at me and allowed me to engage with him in his moment of carefree fun, but I detected a moment of hesitation on his part as well because I don’t think he had an expectation of a friendly response, as my son does, and that made me sad. I think we stop smiling at boys too soon.