Walking home from the Old North School

When I was in elementary school, I often walked home for lunch. Sometimes my dad accompanied me because he was a teacher at my school. When I was alone I usually read a book as I walked. It is a wonder I didn't kill myself tripping over something. I always stopped reading at intersections and I had one eye on the book and one on my surroundings, supposedly. I repeated this exercise after school but there was much more company on the sidewalks after school.

One day, while walking home after school, I realized that I had to go to the bathroom so bad that I couldn't make it all the way home. I decided to stop at a neighbor's house. Beth Moulton quickly answered her door (thank goodness). She was dressed in paint covered clothes and wore a scarf covering her hair. She was holding a paint brush. Panicked, I asked her if she was painting her bathroom. She laughed and said, "No, I'm painting my basement."

I sighed with relief and said, "Good! I'll never make it home to my bathroom. Can I use yours?"

She opened the door and let me run inside. I could hear her chuckling heartily as I sprinted past her. There was never a time that I saw Beth in the last few years of her life without her recalling that day and laughing once again at the memory.