I first saw the father. He turned around and scolded his daughter for not keeping up. I followed his disapproving glare down to the blond little munchkin carrying a plastic bag heavy with produce, struggling to keep it from dragging on the cobblestone street, as well as two other large brown paper wrapped packages. I looked back up at the father. I was incensed. How could a father expect his little girl to carry so much when he wasn’t carrying a single thing?!
As I moved through the crowd I got closer to the wee little thing. She was as blond as blond could be. Behind her little spectacles were eyelashes as light as her hair. Poor sweet darling.
And then I heard something. She was singing. As her father trudged ahead of her, leaving her to carry all the market produce, she was singing.
la, la, I’m shopping, la, la, I’m at the market, la, la, la, I’m shopping with Daddy.
3 comments:
Christine - I linked you on my blog! And I just realized that ten years ago the previous sentence would have been utterly incomprehensible.
Perhaps the poor sweet darling insisted on carrying the package "all by herself." I know I sound insensitive...but sometimes when I see what my daughter insists on wearing to school...I wonder if her teacher is "insensed at me." (As long as she is modest...I try not to make a very big fuss)
Oh...by the way. I am Jim Teal's aunt.
Thank you for commenting on my blog. It really was fun to discover. Actually I was quite surprised. I just added you to my links today because I enjoy reading your blog. It's like reading a collection of fun short stories. You are a gifted writer.
As I told you, I am Jim's aunt. His mother's sister. I see he is your favorite color.
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