Plane Watching.

Mid afternoon, a knock at my door; the sun is low and the sky goes from ocean blue to baby blue, painted like a perfect canvas framed by the roofs of houses. There he stands, his school uniform and a family sized block of chocolate in hand. His schoolbag weights heavily on his back but he soon drops it to the ground and pulls me into the biggest hug ever to happen.
"I heard you've been feeling sad," he says, releasing me and handing me the chocolate. A smile spreads across his face, from ear to ear, "well let's fix that."

He makes his way into my house and to my backyard; he opens the door and my dog rushes to greet him. Taking my hand, he drops his bag on the pavement once again and pulls out a blanket, a bottle of soft drink and several packets of chips. He shrugs and tells me, "They didn't have your favourite flavour." But I shake my head and tell him that it's fine, and I’ll eat whatever. Then he spreads out the blanket and bunches up the end, to make a pillow.
"Lay down," he says. I ask him what we're doing - why he's even here, "We're plane watching. Don’t all your favourite bands arrive today?"

In all honesty, I don't know when they arrive, but plane watching sounds amazing. So we plane watched all afternoon, we plane watched until planes were unseeable and we ate everything he had packed for us.

As he goes to leave, we walk to the bus stop together, his bag still as heavy as it was before; the moon high above us, and he asks, "And the next time you feel sad, come to school and we can pretend it was today and plane watch."