I tend to be a pretty damn serious walker. I’m all game and it’s all on when it comes to The Walk.

I move swift and fast. It helps that I have Murph and B to set a strong pace.

Murphy, being the adorable dog that he is, gets a lot of walk attention. Of which I can’t stand. I always feel slightly annoyed.

Can’t these people just leave us alone?! Can’t they see that WE’RE WALKING! Walking, People! Not stopping. GD Walking. How hard is that to recognize?

The worst kind of ruin my walk mojo are kids. Nothing against the kiddies. I love kids. When they’re not being annoying. I make an obvious turn around any time I see little ones approaching or within a 100 yard radius. Playgrounds? Forget it. Don’t even attempt to go near them.

Yet, it never fails. Every damn walk I will inevitably be accosted by someone’s child roaming the streets free. Typically that prompts a, does your mother know you’re out in the middle of the street? answer when asked, can I pwease pwet your dawg?

I almost never say no, because, well … they’re kids! Am I going to be that a-hole who actually says, NO? No, hell no, I’m not. Even though I want to.

I say almost, since there was the time in the spring, while walking with Brother and B that I did say no and Brother looked at me like I was a child abuser and shamed me into yes submission.

I have yet to live down that shame, so it’s pretty much a guaranteed yes from me nowadays.

Last night, it took everything in me to take Murph out. That’s what happens when it’s like 100 degrees at 7p.m. But I’m a Taurus, and I can’t easily let things like, I walk every damn day, just slide to the way side.

Off we went. Both of us with heavy breathing. I was a little jealous that I couldn’t stick my tongue out. It always looks very cooling to me.

Right as we were getting into things, I heard the dreaded question. At least, I thought I did, because I couldn’t really understand the words. But I could easily understand hand gestures and the word, waaaaaaaiiiiiiittttt!

GD. Spotted and stopped. So I faked smiled, utterly annoyed that in this ridiculous heat, some kid had the audacity to stop me. I realize at this point that I’m beginning to sound like a real charmer. Hey, just keeping it real.

This time though, I decided to do things differently. Despite having a hard time at even breathing through all the damn humidity, I calmed down. I let whatever his name and his cousin’s name was pet Murph for forever {3 minutes might as well have been forever}. I asked them questions. I didn’t worry where their possibly irresponsible parents were or if they were watching me out a window wondering if I was a child molester.

I stopped. I slowed down enough to notice and to remember.

My walks don’t have to be about setting a record pace at all times. Sometimes, it’s just as important to stop and take in what’s happening.

Indulge a kid. Or two.