Saturday, May 2, 2009

As I'm dancing, I'll say, 'But you used to LOOOOVE this!'

I tried to tackle the world today and, thankfully, Allison was agreeable.

After cooperating while I ran errands all morning, I allowed Alli to have her first cookie from the deli counter at the grocery store. It's a service for those who have to entertain a toddler while suffering through painstakingly slow personalized service for a few pounds of meat and cheese.

Normally I cringe when one of the hairnet-clad ladies offers her a "C-O-O-K-I-E," choosing instead to request a slice of the Colby Jack they just weighed for me before sealing it into a bag with the price label.

But this time, as Allison gabbed and waived and high-fived the other customers in line, I felt she deserved a treat for not unleashing her inner crazed maniac like she did last weekend at the zoo.

"Would you like a cookie?" I asked, tousling her bangs that I hacked again the night before.

Her eyes bulged and her head began a slow and steady nod that could keep time more accurately than a metronome.

"COOK-KEY."

The woman graciously walked all the way around the counter to hand-deliver what turned out to be the largest cookie Allison ever received in her lifetime. It was an adult-sized cookie. One I would've broken in half, if not smaller, had we been at home.

Alli was speechless for once, but she kept nodding her approval even after she had taken the first few bites.

Her good mood prevailed through the store, mostly thanks to the chocolate chips that were now smeared across her face and fists, but she also found the background music agreeable, bopping her head back and fourth and protesting with an "uh oh" each time a song ended.

Somewhere around the cereal aisle, I was so pumped by her mood that I found myself egging her on, shaking my head, making funny faces, singing what few lyrics I knew and otherwise making a total fool of myself.

She loved it. If the shopping cart seat wasn't designed to be so constricting, I would've expected a standing ovation.

But as I put a box of Mini Wheats behind her, I leaned over and whispered into her ear, "You may find this hilarious now, but in a few years, it'll completely mortify you. So instead of doing it when you're good, I'll reserve it for a special type of punishment -- parental public humiliation."

It's as powerful as the "Because I said so" card.

7 comments:

Wendy said...

I am keeping a written track of these such moments.

the_plainsman said...

Like reading about these without a "specific planned event" posts, as they tell of the daily unscripted moments that bind mother and daughter, a family, together. Cool!

Fit Mama said...

Good point! I always sing and make faces at my daughter in the grocery store. And she always gets a cookie, but eventually has her meltdown when she has crammed it all down before we are even halfway done...

Sarah said...

I used to LOVE getting cheese at the dairy counter when I was younger! I never had cookies when I went shopping. My sister was always the one to throw a tantrum, I was always pretty quiet. Haha.

Maria said...

Hehe, the adult sized cookies are the best!

I have to say, I love following you on Twitter, it's been a blast so far!

Ray said...

"Her eyes bulged and her head began a slow and steady nod that could keep time more accurately than a metronome."

^^The excitement from a child is so wonderful. ^o^

meginkles said...

Not at all related to the entry - I like the Twitter updates on the right side of the page. I don't subscribe to Twitter, so it's nice to be able to read your updates without having to add yet another social networking account to my already too-long list. Thanks. :)

(silverwolf@xanga)