"My name's Kale."
I always knew that at some point I would meet another Cale. I did once during my pregnancy with him - it was a toddler in my friend's daughter's daycare. And I know other people who know Cales. But since having our own, I've never met another. I was almost surprised to hear it was his name, not because I wasn't expecting it (which I wasn't as it's not a common name), but because I guess I irrationally always thought that I'd meet a little boy named Cale who was born in the summer of 2010. Who was the age my Cale should be. I don't know why I thought that, but just knew that when I met a Cale it would make my heart skip a beat and cause me to pause.
And it did. I got that almost nervous feeling you get right before speaking in front of a large group or are in an uncomfortable situation.
But it was a fleeting feeling and after my initial response of "really, you're name is Cale?" "Yes Ma'am," he said, I just smiled, pointed to Finn and said, "that's his brother's name too."
"Do you spell it C-A-L-E?"
"No, I'm K-A-L-E like the vegetable."
"You're actually the first other Cale that I've met"
"Really? Well your son is the first one I've ever heard of either."
"Well, it's a great name."
"Thanks. His name (motioning to Finn) is neat too"
He was a really sweet kid. I found myself creepily watching him from time to time before we left the park. His brother bumped into another kid and started crying when he bit his tongue. He ran over and asked if he was ok. He also went up to another, much younger, boy on the playground asking if he wanted to join their game of tag.
I think it made my heart especially happy that this particular Kale was kind. If he had been a little punk I would have wanted to smack him and tell him not to ruin the name. But he wasn't. He was a good boy with nice manners and the best name.
It was a nice day.