Hobie got an ear infection, and I took him to the vet last week. The vet gave me a bottle of anti-ear-infection goo, and another of ear cleaning solution, each opened for the first application and adorned with Hobie's name stuck to it on a printed label. When I got home, Janneke's eyes got big and sort of became all I could focus on as she talked about how we already had a bottle of the ear cleaning solution from the last time Hobie got an ear infection, and that she had reminded me before I left not to let them sell me another bottle, and how I never listen to her and a bunch of other stuff I didn't really register. So the next day, Saturday, I was to try to return the bottle of ear cleaner, despite its having been opened and labeled.
So Saturday I launched out into the world with Q to run a whole slew of errands, starting with a trip to Wild Oats to buy a bunch of organic food or something Janneke had said that I don't really remember. I had no cash, and so was going to pay for it on the credit card. Q, on the way to the register, asked if he could have a snack. It was 10:00 or so, and he'd been up since 7:00, so I said sure, he could pick one out at the counter. Of course, this was Wild Oats, and everything they have in their snack aisle is pretty high-fiber and low-sugar and has no preservatives and is otherwise completely unattractive to eight-year-olds. So after a few minutes staring at the aesthetically complicated labels that project such values as fair trade, colonic robustness, and a general wholesome earthiness, but not so much cheap deliciousness, Q gave in and said "I don't really want a snack. That's OK." I paid with the credit card, and away we drove.
As we pulled out of the parking lot, Q said, "Can we stop somewhere else and get me a treat?" This annoyed me greatly. I didn't go into the whole "I have no cash and I don't want to rack up a bunch of 89-cent charges on my ATM card" and all that, so I just said, "No, Q, that was it. You had your chance, you had all the time in the world, and I'm not going to stop the car and do a whole in-and-out at a separate business just so you can have a snack that you already said no to. Forget it."
Three seconds went by. Q said quietly, but with confidence, "You don't have to say it with that tone."
I looked at him in the rear view mirror for a second, and irritation turned to admiration. I said, "You are right. I'm sorry. That was completely unnecessary. And you know what else? Thank you for telling me."
And moments later we were standing at the counter at the vet's, pleading our case, and within seconds the assistant said, "Sure, no problem. We can just credit it back to your credit card. Or would you prefer cash?"
I smiled a big smile. "Cash, please," I said. And drove straight to the gas station, where we walked in solely and explicitly so that Q could plunk down some hard American greenbacks and buy himself a bag of corn syrup and Red Dye #2.
What goes around, comes around.
Here's some photos:
Q shows off his silverware form
T demonstrates proper form when using the straw
Our new baby, delivered today! Bought it from Brad and Betsy, who have upgraded, piano-wise. Looks and sounds great!
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