Life at 11

My stepson visited last weekend, and I was reminded how simple life used to be. He had received 3 gift cards from Barnes & Noble for Christmas and was dying to use them, so we packed up the family and headed to the mall. Of course, we can't go anywhere without a friend in tow, so our neighbor's kid tagged along for moral support. In a stunning move of unselfishness, I heard my stepson offer to buy his friend something. I was touched by his act of kindness.

An hour later, after I had memorized all the good stuff in the Graphic Design section, I went to round up the children. I found them in the "Gifts" section with an armload of toys and various other items. PBug (the stepson) was trying to mentally calculate how much he had left, so I knew I'd better disappear before I got stuck with the leftover balance.

"I'll be in the car with your dad & sister. You need to go check out now," I told him. I noticed the look of panic set into his face; plan foiled!

"I think I might have too much," he offered sheepishly.

"Then put something back." His buddy, J, suddenly realized the toy in his hands was in jeopardy of being lost. In another stunning act of uncommon kid kindness, he offered to put the toy back so PBug could get his toys. My entire faith in the future generation was restored when PBug again insisted, "No, I promised you I would get you something, too..."

So that's how I left them, to figure out how to solve their dilemna in a civilized and fair manner. After circling the parking lot for fifteen minutes, my husband tells me, "Go check on them."

I walked back in to find them still in the gift section, talking through the problem at hand.

"Well, if you get that, then I can't get THIS, but then, if you get THAT, then we can play with it TOGETHER."

"But I've ALWAYS wanted one of THESE," argues J.

"Where did you find that? I didn't see that. I've always wanted one of THOSE too!"

"Guys," I interjected, "Dad is in the car & he's ready to go. You need to decide on something."

"But I don't think we have enough for everything. We're short by just FIFTEEN DOLLARS..." Hint, hint.

"Sorry guys, I left my purse in the car. Put something back and let's go. I'll be in the car waiting."

So I return to the car. After circling the parking lot for another fifteen minutes, my husband tells me, "GO GET THEM."

I return to find them at the checkout line. There is a huge line formed behind them, and J is holding the place while PBug is running about the store bringing items over for the checkout lady to scan. She is an older lady with kind eyes. Obviously she has grandchildren, because she doesn't seem to be phased by the increasingly irate mob forming behind these darling children.

"Twelve dollars, honey. That's four more than you have."

"Okay, hold on," says PBug. I catch him by the collar.

"No. We have to go. Put something back so we can checkout & leave."

The kind lady smiled patiently. "It's okay, sweetie, he's not bothering me." Obviously, but the look on the people behind her told me that while SHE may not be bothered, THEY definately were.

"Thank you," I told her, then looked down at PBug. "We HAVE to go. Put something back."

He looked down at his pile of treasures with a suffering pout. Unmoved, I gave him the patented NOW stare.
"Well, (sigh).... how much this is?"

Beep. "$14.99."

I grabbed the item in question. "We'll put this back..."
I handed it to PBug, who looked down at the item with a pained expression.

"But it's a QUILL. (Sigh). I've been looking for one of these for HALF MY LIFE...."

Indeed. Every 11-year-old desparately needs a quill. And with that I almost wanted to cry. I can't remember the last time that life was that simple. I wish I had appreciated it more.