As I entered a convenience store yesterday evening a woman exited, carrying a screaming little girl over her shoulder. The child was probably about 10 years old and was a little too large to be carried in such a way, but it was clear this woman had no alternative. The little girl was screaming, "I'm NOT going to leave! I'm NOT going to leave!" It made me wonder: what's so awesome about this convenience store???
It looked to me like a classic case of a child acting out for whatever reason, followed up with some much-needed parental strong-arming. I mean, seriously - who wants to hang out at a gas station all night, really?
I went up to the counter and, without thinking, said to the cashier: "Pretty funny how's she screaming that she's NOT GOING TO LEAVE when, in fact, she's in the process of leaving." Or something like that. I just thought it was a touch on the ironic side.
This is why I shouldn't try to make small talk with strangers.
I looked up at the cashier after my comment and saw that she was staring out the window with tears in her eyes, watching the little girl being carried away to a waiting vehicle. I quickly realized that this wasn't your typical bratty child moment, but rather some sort of insanely sad custody type situation. The cashier went through the motions, handing me my receipt and turning to the next customer, but my heart broke for her. It probably took all the strength in her to keep working.
Ugh. Me and my stupid comment. Ugh! My thoughts are with her; I hope everything works out for her and her family soon.
13 November, 2011
07 November, 2011
Once she gets the stuffing out, she finally finds the prize: the squeaker! It's the heart of the toy and, once she finds it, she carries it around in her mouth and squeaks it indiscriminately.
I've had her for three years, and occasionally people have expressed concern: "Aren't you worried she's going to swallow that squeaker or choke on it?"
I'd always reply in the negative - she'd never actually swallowed the squeaker before, so why worry? She'd just chew it until it stopped squeaking (aka, until she "killed" it) and then she'd forget about it.
Yesterday morning, Piglet woke me up with urgent, whining noises. I climbed out of bed and realized she was about to puke. Being the good pet owner that I am, I held her ears back while she heaved.
I was surprised to hear a muffled squeak as she horked up some nasty stuff. Lo and behold, there was a regurgitated squeaker on the floor in front of me. My dog and I looked at the squeaker in silence for a while... I'm not sure what she was thinking, but I was thinking this:
Dear People Who Had Opinions/Concerns About Piglet's Toys: FINE! You were right. I won't let her play with squeakers anymore. But this is going to take the joy out of her routine! The squeaker is what makes the toy ALIVE! Duh.
Lesson learned. It's probably good I don't have kids or design toys for a living, huh?