Monday, February 18, 2013

Fanta

I woke up irritable today.  In fact, as I sit here trying to write this post, I just shushed my family, asking for quiet for five minutes.  At times, it feels like my main role in this house is to tell people where to put things and find things they have lost.

So after an irritable morning, I sent our son with his dad to a meeting so I could do grocery shopping with just our daughter.  The burden was lighter this way. She is a helper and great company, especially when it's just us.  In the car, we had a longish conversation about why goldfish crackers are not good to eat every day and what the term "whole food" means.  She's always been interested in health, medicine, and nutrition.  My need to explain to her what the word "ingredient" means was a reminder that English is not her first language.

In the first store, she sat in the huge cart the whole time and made a fort for herself from the items I was putting in, the 700 rolls of toilet paper being one full wall.  We sampled granola with rice milk, orange chicken, taquitos, beef broth which she let me finish.  In the huge parking lot, I ran her and the cart to the car, only getting a couple of looks, fueled by the compliment she'd just gotten on the way out on her pretty hair (I worked on it for four hours Saturday).

At the next store, she walked beside me and helped.  We bought only whole food here, although on the way out, I noticed the 50 cent cans of coke available from a vending machine, so she pulled out her wallet, the one with a picture of my grandmother in the front window, and put two quarters in.  She picked Fanta.  We rarely get cokes, and she was giddy with excitement.  She skipped out to the car while we talked about how our driver in Ethiopia used to buy her Fantas at every restaurant we went to.  When she asked why he did that, I said, "Well, because, I guess Ethiopians like to spoil kids sometimes."  This made her smile, and we talked about how nice the driver was and how fun that week was that we spent with him.

At the next store, she insisted on carrying both bags out to the car.  She laughed off and on the whole way.  I pulled out my phone to snap a picture, amazed (again) at her beauty.

1 comment:

  1. Special mama time - even doing errands can be revealing, educational and intimate. I am in wonder that you are able to find the moments in your day to celebrate these small and precious times. Thank you.

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