A young family boarded my flight from Pittsburgh to Minneapolis; and though they were sitting a few rows behind me, our paths crossed.
The little boy was 21 months old, and I remember those days of traveling in a car or a plane with someone that size. About midway through the flight, the boy needed to get some energy out, so he and mom took a quick stroll up and down the aisle of the plane.
As he neared me on the return to his seat (which he didn't want to do!), I looked at him, smiled, put out my hand for a high five and said something like "hey, there, little man. How you doing?"
The mother said thank you.
Fast forward about an hour later, and the four of us found ourselves waiting for the same train/tram to get us to the next terminal we needed. (They were en route to Seattle, and I was on my way to ground transportation.) I smiled again at the boy, and his mother asked him if he remembered that "he was the nice man who gave you a high five on the plane."
Dad was the quiet one, but he did look at me and smile. Shortly after, the train/tram arrived, and I told the woman -- who was wheeling one suitcase and one baby seat -- to go in ahead of me. What she said next stunned me:
"You know, I can tell you have kids because you treat mothers with small ones so nicely."
I fumbled some kind of response that probably made no sense. We soon parted ways, but as I walked to ground transportation I felt as if my day had been made.