I was always "pokey" as a kid. I was too busy thinking about math/science/psych to move quickly. Movement always came in second to thought, in my world. And if I thought too much, movement would cease entirely until I solved whatever mental problem I was trying to work out. Yup. They called me pokey. I thought they moved entirely too much.
Prefs, yo.
This is my kid. And when he moves he sometimes moves all jerky, in time to his thoughts (almost like he's acting out what's in his head). This morning as I was waiting to pull out back into moving traffic after I dropped him off for school I saw a motorcycle cop coming the opposite way, slowly, and he was staring at something on the sidewalk and kept staring until he was looking over his shoulder.
I looked at what he was staring at and realized it was my son (there were no other kids around), who was galumphing his way down the sidewalk and if you don't know him you would think his slow, abnormal gate meant he was injured.
I had a good laugh.
Then flipped around and heading the direction the bike cop was heading only to see he had pulled over and whipped out his speeding gun. (I had not a good laugh at that and was glad I always piss people off by how slowly I move in my car, meaning I do the darn speed limit especially in a school zone!)