I tried to tell the cashier that I would be fine to walk myself out to the car--I was used to juggling. But they insisted on giving me a hand. I then explained it might take me a minute because I had promised the boys they could sit on the dragon and pick out a balloon--by the way, have you actually heard the Harris Teeter dragon song? It will be stuck in your brain for days. Anyway, in spite of my warnings, the young man stood at attention waiting to push my cart to the car.
The pressure to move quickly was on--and if you have preschoolers you know they have no comprehension of "quick." After about a minute I looked my 2-year-old into the eyes and calming explained to him that we were all done with the dragon--it was time to go. He declared his opinion with a resounding "NO" followed by a death grip onto the handlebars. I glanced over at the poor young man who was now avoiding all eye contact with me and seemed to be retreating within himself for peace.
After I pried my little guy from the big, green, plastic, probably germ-infested dragon, I gave him a much deserved balloon and we all hurried to the car, which included the young man practically running over my older son--I think he was completely beside himself. I strapped my boys into their seats, with my one son rubbing his clobbered head, and gave the young man my most genuine smile, internally thinking, "You have no idea."
So now you understand, I think he may have vowed celibacy.
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