Wrong Mom

Returned to NYC only 24 hours and was out and about.  Passed a woman with an eight year old daughter, and on a leash, a lab dog.  Dog was demanding more from the mother than the child.  Mother and I shared the same hair color and black clothes.  As I passed the trio on the sidewalk, mother was speaking to the dog, who had just opted for a yet another sniff at the tree trunk, and I walked around them and along the sidewalk.  All of a sudden, I hear little feet running beside me and feel a small hand lay itself against my side, looking for my hand.  In a nano-second I realized it was a case of mistaken identity.  I stopped, looked down at the small girl with her hand at my side and said with a smile, “wrong mom’.  It took her two nano seconds to process the information before she turned on her heel and ran to her mom, while I walked on.