Ever since we read the Kit stories from American Girl, the kids have been obsessed with hoboes. Kit, who lived in the Depression, met and brought food to the hoboes in a camp outside Cincinnatti they called The Hobo Jungle.
Last night Monica and the kids met me at work, and we walked to meet my parents at a restaurant in downtown Portland. The path led us by a homeless man sitting on the sidewalk. I walked up to him and gave him a quarter, and he smiled. When he did we noticed that he was missing his front tooth.
Ruby, who lost her front tooth over the weekend rushed up to him, her face aglow. "Look!" she cried, pointing to her mouth. "You're just like me!"
He smiled a lot, and we couldn't really understand everything he was mumbling, but I think it made him pretty happy.
On the ride home, after dinner, Ruby asked asked me, "Daddy, was that man we met on the street a hobo?"
"Yes," I said.
And Wadey said, "They live in the Hobo Jungle!"