Is that all of them?

An hour into the road trip, the gas tank dinged with the kind of urgency that demands a decision.

We had options. I asked my daughter where we should stop.

“What’s a Love’s, Dad?”

“Well,” I said, “if Buc-ee’s is the Disneyland of gas stations, then Love’s is Disney+ on a school night. Fun, but not life-changing.”

From the backseat, her brother shouted: “Let’s do that!”

Minutes later, we’re filling up. Everyone goes inside for snacks. I start scanning shelves for something strange enough to qualify for Eric Tries.

That’s when my son grabs my arm.

“Dad, you have to see this fountain!”

It’s a soda fountain, but not just any. A cross between a Coke Freestyle and a Pepsi Spire. A choose-your-own-adventure in syrup form.

He grabs a cup. Begins doing the math. How many flavors can one cup hold?

He sets to work. Laser-focused.

And then—an employee walks over.

I brace for disappointment. Maybe she’s going to say “one at a time” or “that’s not how it works.”

But she doesn’t.

She stops. Watches. Smiles.

For a full minute, she forgets whatever her shift told her was urgent. She just… watches.

My son is oblivious. He's deep in creation. Punching buttons, solving his flavor puzzle.

The result? A liquid that looks like if a Jell-O cup married DayQuil.

He turns, proud. Beaming.

She leans in and asks, “Is that all of them in there?”

He nods, pauses, and says the most “him” thing ever.

“Want to try it?”

Her smile somehow grows.

“That is so sweet,” she says. “But I think you should enjoy all of that.”

He does.

And she goes back to work.

But for three minutes, in a Love’s off I-55, we all remembered what it feels like to be 9 years old and totally delighted.

We're surrounded by these micro-moments of magic - they don't require expensive tickets or elaborate planning. They happen at gas stations, waiting rooms, and grocery store aisles.

The question isn't whether these moments exist. The question is whether we'll notice them when they do.