My five-year-old niece, Miss A, came over to hang out with me this morning. When I picked her up today, she knew that we were headed to Wal-Mart for some of life’s necessities (Think, milk. And bread.), so she had a five dollar bill of her own to spend.
Her instructions, handed down to her by her parents, were rather simple: No toys. While we were driving in the Suburban, I asked her why she wasn’t allowed to buy toys with her money. She sighed and said, “It’s because my mom thinks I have way too many toys. I don’t think I have too many toys, but my mom does, so now I have to wait a long, long time until I can buy toys again. I’ll probably be ten years old by then.”
Shopping with Miss A is an entirely different experience than shopping with the boy. At one point, she grabbed my arm, shook it vigorously to gain my attention and shouted out, “Look! They put up a little glass wall where they sell the gum! I think that glass wall looks so much better than what they had before, and I love how the gum looks in front of that glass wall!”
Had I been shopping with the boy, he would have missed the newly-installed glass wall completely and simply asked, “Hey, can I get gum?”
After we’d loaded the cart with bread and milk and chicken and the like, I turned to Miss A and asked, “Okay, what would you like to spend your money on?”
She grinned, from ear to ear, and whispered, “Follow me.”
She knew exactly where she was going — the toy department. I began phrasing apologies to her parents in my head. “Well, actually she didn’t buy the toy; I bought it for her. Does that count?” I was surprised when she walked through the bright-pink Barbie aisle, pointed at a doll from The Princess and the Frog movie, and stated, “When I can finally buy toys again, I’m going to buy THIS Barbie. I just love her so much.”
For a five-year-old, she had some serious willpower. We kept walking.
And we stopped right in front of the hoola hoops. Miss A looked at me and asked, “I’ve been wanting a pink hoola hoop all of my life, but I’m not sure if it’s a toy or not.”
I looked at Miss A and stated, “It’s definitely NOT a toy; it’s athletic equipment! And your brothers get new athletic equipment all the time. You know, hockey sticks and soccer cleats and mouth guards for football.” Miss A grinned from ear to ear again, and we loaded the pink hoola hoop into our cart.
It cost exactly $1.49, and it brought a couple hours’ worth of entertainment to us this morning. Miss A kept shouting out, “Get your camera! Take a picture of me while I’m hoola hooping!” I’m not accustomed to being asked to take pictures! Usually the boy grumbles and whines, “Not your camera again!”
Love. Simply LOVE it. What a sweet girl.
Adorable!