So THAT's how he keeps tabs off-season...
Posted 10-10-2012 at 07:47 AM by Urban Sasquatch
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This weekend past I was out with my 5-year-old and we decided to hit Hobby Lobby, a craft-and-merchandise retailer catering to the do-it-yourself artsy crowd. I enjoy looking over the variety of Christmas decorations available this time of year and Luke loves to run up and down the packed aisles shouting out gleefully about one discovery or another.
We'd been there for approximately twenty minutes and were nearing the end of the Christmas goodies (shop early or you'll only get the scraps!) when Luke, peering around a corner, froze in wide-eyed fascination bordering on panic.
He ran back to me, dragging me forcibly as he half-shouted, half-whispered to me with an air of desperation that I needed to come with him, he needed help -- and apparently he needed this help now!
"What is it you want?" I asked, trying to figure out what in the world could have driven a child exuberant but generally reasonable to such instantaneously fevered measures.
"I need to TALK to this man!" he persevered, eyes barely on me as he moved backward, dragging me every step of the way. Were he a dog this was the moment he'd have stretched the leash taught, wheeze-coughing forcefully at the end of it.
Around the corner he dragged me, to where the janitor was focused on pushing his dust-mop along the broad aisles.
"Go on," I told Luke. "You can do it."
Stopped now and staring, he took my hand and whispered "I'm a little bit nervous..."
I reassured him and he finally stepped forward into the janitor's path, directly before the man's wide broom where he stood, nearly quaking in his shoes and staring up at the man.
Forced to stop, the janitor leaned on his broom and stared directly back at Luke, his aged brows furrowed and pale behind his spectacles -- but he never said a word, only stared down at the small, tow-headed boy who stood blocking his way.
Luke mumbled something completely unintelligible in tones both faint and frightened and the man's mouth turned down quizzically behind his moustaches and beard as he leaned in closer, pressing Luke to repeat what he'd said.
Taking a breath Luke worked up his courage and said loudly "I'VE BEEN GOOD ALL YEAR!" before turning and hurrying back to cling to my side and try to drag me away.
The man looked puzzled for a second before it dawned on him as his snowy brows lifted above his gold spectacles perched atop a strong, masculine nose, and his white-furred mouth smiled gently as he said to Luke "Good. It's GOOD you've behaved all year." And with that he went back to his sweeping.
And now we know how he keeps tabs between seasons.
This weekend past I was out with my 5-year-old and we decided to hit Hobby Lobby, a craft-and-merchandise retailer catering to the do-it-yourself artsy crowd. I enjoy looking over the variety of Christmas decorations available this time of year and Luke loves to run up and down the packed aisles shouting out gleefully about one discovery or another.
We'd been there for approximately twenty minutes and were nearing the end of the Christmas goodies (shop early or you'll only get the scraps!) when Luke, peering around a corner, froze in wide-eyed fascination bordering on panic.
He ran back to me, dragging me forcibly as he half-shouted, half-whispered to me with an air of desperation that I needed to come with him, he needed help -- and apparently he needed this help now!
"What is it you want?" I asked, trying to figure out what in the world could have driven a child exuberant but generally reasonable to such instantaneously fevered measures.
"I need to TALK to this man!" he persevered, eyes barely on me as he moved backward, dragging me every step of the way. Were he a dog this was the moment he'd have stretched the leash taught, wheeze-coughing forcefully at the end of it.
Around the corner he dragged me, to where the janitor was focused on pushing his dust-mop along the broad aisles.
"Go on," I told Luke. "You can do it."
Stopped now and staring, he took my hand and whispered "I'm a little bit nervous..."
I reassured him and he finally stepped forward into the janitor's path, directly before the man's wide broom where he stood, nearly quaking in his shoes and staring up at the man.
Forced to stop, the janitor leaned on his broom and stared directly back at Luke, his aged brows furrowed and pale behind his spectacles -- but he never said a word, only stared down at the small, tow-headed boy who stood blocking his way.
Luke mumbled something completely unintelligible in tones both faint and frightened and the man's mouth turned down quizzically behind his moustaches and beard as he leaned in closer, pressing Luke to repeat what he'd said.
Taking a breath Luke worked up his courage and said loudly "I'VE BEEN GOOD ALL YEAR!" before turning and hurrying back to cling to my side and try to drag me away.
The man looked puzzled for a second before it dawned on him as his snowy brows lifted above his gold spectacles perched atop a strong, masculine nose, and his white-furred mouth smiled gently as he said to Luke "Good. It's GOOD you've behaved all year." And with that he went back to his sweeping.
And now we know how he keeps tabs between seasons.
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Comments
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How cute is that?!?!? My son was always afraid of Santa when he was about that age and younger.....
Now, at 18 years old, he will still go with me in stores just like that and we try on the hats.......together!Posted 10-19-2012 at 09:49 AM by Pikantari
