From time-to-time I go to the Chiropractor. I have done for years. It started as a spinal correction for a primary school accident when I was in grade six and has, over time, become an ongoing proactive/preventative health maintenance thing. Specially important now that age is starting to catch up with me.

Today I had an appointment with my Chiropractor. A good bloke in Gympie.. yeah, I know what you're thinking...not many of them.

On the way to Gympie I was considering my future with my current employer. It's that time of year. Studies have shown that staff move around more at Christmas, through some desire for something better. Starting the new year with something fresh. I can sympathise. I do it every year also. I was depressing myself with thoughts of incompetent, knee-jerk, management and was rather gloomy when I arrived. Wistfully wishing I was on my bike touring around the country, I was flicking through the local rag as I sat in the waiting room.

There were children playing with blocks or some such things as I arrived and, lost in my own thoughts, I didn't think much about them. I was more interested in how I was going to make it through the next 15-20 minutes... I had arrived very early. That was until a little boy, perhaps around 5 or 6, came and sat down beside me and started watching me read the paper.

He started pointing out the Santa Clauses that littered every page. He informed me that Christmas was coming very soon and let it be known that he wanted a motorbike. WELL..... that was the perfect introduction to a conversation.

We started talking about bikes, he wanted a red one... it was the only condition. He asked what the political cartoon was about (picture of a Croc and Bindi Irwin). He pointed out a couple kids from his school that had made it into the paper. He told me he had walked all the way to the Chiropractor on his own, and on asking how far that was, was told he lived just across the road. He asked me what I wanted for Christmas and I had to mention my bike.. it is red after all.

In short... it seems I had made a friend, much to the amusement of the other patrons and staff.

Our conversation went on and before I knew it I was being called to enter the "unkinking room". With a jolly wave and toothy grin he said "Seeya later" and went back to the trucks on the floor.

Lying on the "unkinking table" I thought.. how odd. Kids don't normally walk up to me and strike up a conversation. I don't really know why and it doesn't keep me up at night. Don't get me wrong.. Kids are great, will have some of my own some day.
What I did realise was that I was in a much happier mood than when I first walked in. All thoughts of nad-less managers had dispersed. I suddenly became envious of all the parents out there who get to do that every day. His enthusiasm for the simplistic gave me hope for humanity in the future. Ah! ... to be a child again. Why is it that adults make everything so convolutedly complex?

He was gone when I came out, but he gave me the boost I needed.

Perceptive little bugger :-)