Yesterday I was sitting out front on my step eating breakfast, when my next door neighbor came out and started talking to me. He kept starting new topics, while he gradually backed away. “Well, I have to go now,” he said as if I was holding him back. I hadn’t said much.

I went out for a walk myself a little later on.

My adult kid, who volunteers in a municipal park, texted me, “Woof, volunteering sure does have a social aspect,” and arranged to catch up with me at the library on their way home.

I walked over to meet them, passing a couple of older women who were chatting. One of them said, “Well it was lovely to run into you but I have an appointment,” and stood there as if she couldn’t leave after all.

My kid and I sat in a coffee shop after the library chatting. It turned out my kid was worried because they had been having a conversation with younger coworkers who suddenly announced they had to go, and so my kid was feeling socially awkward. I told my kid about my neighbor and about the lady with the appointment, and we decided comfortably that people are weird and have no idea how to finish up a conversation.

I walked them up to to a bus stop and we stood and chatted until the bus came, and my kid leapt onto the bus. We went our separate ways, no problem.

Sometimes I realize I am extraordinarily fortunate. My kid, confronted by social anxiety, seeks me out, you see. And we are perfectly comfortable saying goodbye when it’s time to go.