An Outing

The other day I took Tornado A shopping with me.

He was as cute as a button.  So cute that he was a magnet for other strangers who had to say hi to him and converse with him (which didn’t work) or converse with me.

“He probably never slows down.”

“He’s so cute!”

“He’s a big helper!” (after Tornado A helped me put things on the conveyer belt.)

In the produce section:

Tornado A: I help get apples!

Me: Ok!  Let’s get a bunch of granny smith for Tornado E and me.

Tornado A: OK!

Me: One.  Two.  Three.  Four.  Five.  Six.  Seven.  Eight.  Nine.  Ten.  I think that’s good.

Tornado A: I want red ones!

Me: Ok.  It’s apple season.  Let’s load up.  Ready?  One.  Two.  Three.  Four.  Five.  I think that’s enough.

Tornado A: No, Mommy!  A few more!

Me: How many do we need?

Tornado A: One!  Two!  Seven!

Me: Ok.  Let’s get two more.  Six.  Seven.

Tornado A: Seven!

Old woman: You’re the kind of mom all teachers wish kids have.

Me: Um.

Old woman 2: She’s the kind of mom I wish I had.

They laugh.

Me:  (mumbling) Thanks.  (normal)  Come on, little man.  We need to buy sprinkles.

Tornado A: Sprinkles!


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