That is what you were Dan. I know it, and I’m pretty sure anyone else who’s met you knows it.
You carried my purse, any other bags I had, even my new very flowery diaper bag.
When we lived in the city, you were forever helping young mothers carry their kids and strollers up the subway stairs. It started to bother me because it was such a regular thing.
You always wanted to treat everyone to dinner even though we had no money- when we went out with my parents, you’d be so sneaky- saying you had to go to the bathroom and actually going to give your credit card and pay the bill ahead of time.
You always struck up a conversation with cab drivers- especially if their nationality hinted that they might have an interest in soccer.
You cut up pieces of whatever meal you were having and put it on my plate if we went out for a nicer meal – saying “Try this!”
Every time we ate out Asian style, you folded my disposable chopsticks wrapper into a little origami type stand for my chopsticks without my even noticing until I went to get them.
You took my hand as I got off the bus, or as we crossed the street…putting your arm to the side to tell any eager cars making turns to wait…
tugging me along…