Mrs. Sandler takes the toothpaste from her son's hands and places it back on the shelf. "No, we'll get our usual toothpaste."
"But that doesn't have the super-dino-powered T-Rexes. Charley's mom buys him T-Rex paste. You don't love me if you don't get me dinos." Tucson climbed up on the front of the cards and leaned his waist over the edge of the baskets until he tottered forward.
Mrs. Sandler wanted to retort that least Tucson had a loving family unlike Charley. She pushed the strand of hair with the split ends out of her eyes. Why did she always have to be the good one? She heard the words of her cross-country coach. "If you want something bad enough, you have to envision it." When she'd been young, she would've wished to be rich. That would solve this problem. Yet, wishing didn't make things so. Wishing couldn't make everyone rich and that's what we'd be if wishes worked. Envisioning worked differently. A simple trip to Target could make the simplest things obvious. You didn't envision wishes. You envisioned how you would act in a situation. Of course, knowing that she should envision having a good answer for Tucson wasn't the same as having done the mental preparation. "Honey, I love you."
Quick as a dollar bill sliding down a storm drain, Tucson grabbed another tube of T-Rex paste. "Yay!"
She let her eyes bore into him and the smile vanished. "I need the dinos. It's the only way to eat away the plaque.
Other customers began to stare at Mrs. Sandler. She rolled her eyes. "Go ahead."
"My mommies the best." Tucson hugged his mother.
She felt guilty as she palmed the box and set it on the shelf. At least those years of training magic tricks had one benefit. Next time they visited Target, Tucson was staying with Mr. Sandler.
"Mommy mommy, can we buy this?"
ReplyDeleteMrs. Sandler takes the toothpaste from her son's hands and places it back on the shelf. "No, we'll get our usual toothpaste."
"But that doesn't have the super-dino-powered T-Rexes. Charley's mom buys him T-Rex paste. You don't love me if you don't get me dinos." Tucson climbed up on the front of the cards and leaned his waist over the edge of the baskets until he tottered forward.
Mrs. Sandler wanted to retort that least Tucson had a loving family unlike Charley. She pushed the strand of hair with the split ends out of her eyes. Why did she always have to be the good one? She heard the words of her cross-country coach. "If you want something bad enough, you have to envision it." When she'd been young, she would've wished to be rich. That would solve this problem. Yet, wishing didn't make things so. Wishing couldn't make everyone rich and that's what we'd be if wishes worked. Envisioning worked differently. A simple trip to Target could make the simplest things obvious. You didn't envision wishes. You envisioned how you would act in a situation. Of course, knowing that she should envision having a good answer for Tucson wasn't the same as having done the mental preparation. "Honey, I love you."
Quick as a dollar bill sliding down a storm drain, Tucson grabbed another tube of T-Rex paste. "Yay!"
She let her eyes bore into him and the smile vanished. "I need the dinos. It's the only way to eat away the plaque.
Other customers began to stare at Mrs. Sandler. She rolled her eyes. "Go ahead."
"My mommies the best." Tucson hugged his mother.
She felt guilty as she palmed the box and set it on the shelf. At least those years of training magic tricks had one benefit. Next time they visited Target, Tucson was staying with Mr. Sandler.
Great story, Aidan! ☼
ReplyDeleteNice! :)
ReplyDelete