When my dad retired about ten years ago, I couldn’t quite imagine what his new life was like. This was a man who’d worked 50 and 60 hour work-weeks for thirty five years. What was he possibly doing to fill his days? So, I asked him, “What do you do all day?”

“The same things I’ve always done,” he responded. “I just do them a lot less efficiently.”

I liked his answer a lot. I conjured up images of my father going into the hardware store and putzing around for hours on end. Same thing at the computer store. The golf store — forget it — days and days, I’m sure. I liked his answer a lot, particularly since I was at a time in my life when efficiency was an ever-growing need. Indeed, over the years since his answer, as my life has demanded that I be more and more efficient, I’ve ruminated over his words with a little jealousy. Oh, to be able to be purposefully inefficient! Surely, that time in my life is far in the distance.

Or, maybe, it’s now.

This morning, Evan and I dropped Zoe off at preschool at 9 am. As usual, I had a list of errands to run — errands I’d saved up for the day when I was down a child. I feel guilty about it every week, toting poor Evan around from shop to shop while Zoe is in school, but every week I can’t seem to avoid the lure of running errands a little more efficiently with one less child on my guard. So, I plopped Evan in the car, reviewed my list, plotted my course for adventure, and headed out for the first stop.

Closed. I didn’t take into account that my first stop would not open before my arrival. Closed. Ack! I quickly tried to reconfigure my plan, but no matter how I tried, it just didn’t make sense to rearrange my errands. “We’ll wait”, I thought. 45 minutes. So much for efficiency.

A blueberry muffin, three cafe tables and chairs, a pine-straw pile, two store window displays, and countless “birdies” later, I didn’t mind or miss the lost time. Not one bit. Evan was as happy as if I’d taken him to the playground, and I was better off for a lesson in spontaneity. Who would have thought a strip mall could have afforded such delight? Watching Evan relish in every little thing set before him was a delicious treat for my own self. I’ve always said that the toddler stage is one of my favorites, and this morning, with my son, I believe I watched him show me he’s every bit the toddler that I love so much. He’s been pulling at my heartstrings lately, coming in to his own as his personality blossoms. This morning, he gave those heartstrings a fatal yank. I was done for.

During our strip mall adventure this morning, I invariably ended up talking to a passerby. He was looking at us quizzically as we aimlessly paraded the walkway. “We’re just killing time,” I explained. Nothing could have been farther from the truth. We were soaking it up. I’m not sure when those last two items on my list will get crossed off, but I’m sure glad they didn’t get crossed off today.