at the bookstore

We were hanging out at the bookstore the other day, sitting there with our pile of books and our coffees from the in-store cafe. A mom came in with her two kids, a little boy who looked about four and a little girl who looked about three. I watched them at the condiment stand after they got their drinks. The mom had a cappuccino; the kids had hot chocolates. Mom helped them with their lids, got them all set to drink, and as they started to walk away, the little girl had a flash, as if she’d forgotten something. “I have to pay! I have to pay!” Her older brother looked at her and said matter-of-factly, from his place of much greater life experience, “You don’t have to pay. You’re a baby.”

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