E is for Elevators

My son has enjoyed riding elevators (and escalators) ever since our first trip to Springfield Mall for a haircut. He would never ride the old carousel that was in the atrium, but we would go up and down the glassed-in elevator watching it go round and round for what seemed like hours to me.

On family road trips our hotel rooms had to be on upper floors, or he was seriously bummed out and his proprioceptive system left un-stimulated. So we always planned accordingly. We also made sure to choose hotels with indoor pools so that Will could  unwind from a long day in the car.

At my parent's first retirement community residence, Will enjoyed riding up and down in the elevator, politely asking the elderly residents "Which floor would you like?" He would not only press the button for them, but he would also hold open the door for them, knowing from his experience with my parents that old folks often move more slowly than young people. One old guy took quite a shine to Will and always saved him baseballs that had come over the fence of the college practice field nearby.

At a certain age, Will took note of each elevator's brand name. This passing obsession led me to choose Otis as my random favorite in order to have an answer to his frequent inquiries. But over time he has outgrown our mother-son mall trips that never involved shopping. Now he heads to the barber shop with his dad once a month, and they’ve made their own post haircut traditions. But on those rare occasions when I find myself at a mall, I always take the glass elevator.

Life Lesson: If you can’t beat’em, join’em!