Today was a long day of errand running. The kids went to PostNet twice to send off some packages, stood in a long line at the bank because their mom chose the wrong time of the day to go, endured a trip to the Walmart picture frame aisle with an indecisive woman, and hung around the office of a new adventure I’ll be starting soon (intentionally vague).
All those places, save Walmart, have one thing in common: candy fishbowls.
And today I discovered something about my son.
He is, apparently, a master at charming the lady sitting behind the desk into giving him 2 pieces of candy. He knows how to give her a sweet, shy smile. He knows how to look at the candy bowl as if he just discovered it, even though he probably spotted it the second we walked through the door. He knows how to ask, “Please, I want some candy, pleeeease?” He knows how to give that part-mischevious, part-insecure look as he asks for “a other one”. And he knows how to look so adorable upon hearing her affirmation that she believes she has truly made a young boy’s day.
He could be a master at selling newspapers in 1899.
How do I know he’s faking it? The first time I just suspected. But then the same thing happened at the next three offices.
The question is: how often does he do that to me and I’m unaware?
