Monday, August 8, 2011

America Runs on Donates

Baby Boy keeps asking for a Mater truck from the Cars 2 movie. We counted up his change (minus all the quarters I borrow for parking meters) and cashed it in for a crisp $20 bill, which he immediately shoved in his tiny shorts pocket.

Today was the big day to go buy Mater. But first, we made a stop at the Audabon for a nature walk. (Need to balance out the impending fluorescent hell of Walmart with some trees and gophers.) In the lobby, there was a giant cube with some loose change at the bottom.

"What's this do, mama?" BB asked as he smeared his mouth all over the outside of it.

"That is where people donate, sweetie," I said rather distracted by the gift shop. "They donate money to help the animals."

When I turned around, his $20 bill was deep in the cube atop the pennies and he was loudly asking the desk volunteer, who was obviously illiterate in 3-year old, where the donuts were.

It only took a second for me to A) see where the miscommunication took place ("That is where people DONUTS, honey...") and B) to realize a huge tantrum was about to occur.

I dragged him out as he was screaming for donuts and/or his money back. The surrounding animals we had spent the morning cooing at decided to take an early hibernation.

No comments:

Post a Comment