The girls and I went to San Antonio today, in search of a couple items.
On the way home we stopped at Costco for some cheese. I just HAD to peruse the book tables while we were there. It’s a mental defect. Really I can’t help it. I noticed some really cool looking books, complete with sound clips of the various animals on the pages. There was even a dinosaur book.
Then I spotted it.
Right there on the cover of this dinosaur book.
“Authentic real life sounds!”
I showed the cover to my seven year old and asked her what was wrong with it.
Right away she replied, “Um, not a whole lot of people alive today have heard dinosaur sounds to know what they sound like.”
She figured it out right away.
Why didn’t the editors?
Fast forward to the check out line.
Marissa is in the cart on the side of the register where the clerk is. Grace is beside me in front of the clerk. Behind us is a black man. Naturally, I did not go into Costco and ONLY buy cheese. The clerk finishes ringing up all my purchases, and turns around to grab my cart and load my goodies. He looks at the next cart and sees Marissa, looks at the nice man behind us in line, then looks at me and asked me if I had a cart or if we just carried all of the stuff in our hands. I’m watching all this unfold, wondering exactly how I should respond. I was feeling bad for the guy, really. I can totally see why he would make the assumption that he did. I figured his embarrassment over the whole situation was going to be enough punishment. So I just smiled sweetly and nodded toward the cart with my sweet daughter in it, and said, “That one’s mine.”