'Sup?
On Saturday, I took my niece Julia, who's six, to see a production of The Little Mermaid at a tiny little community theater about 45 minutes from her house. I'd wanted to plan a day of quality time in celebration of her birthday, since she already has more toys, arts & crafts, clothes and books than she can handle. So, quality time it was.
Julia told me repeatedly that she'd be having water to drink with her lunch, because it's "healthy for my body" -- a tiny bit ironic, I thought, given that lunch was a grilled cheese sandwich, french fries and half of my hamburger, but still, a nice thought -- and would enjoy a soda for a treat during intermission at the play.
As it turns out, it's possible to tell the story of the Little Mermaid -- the original Hans Christian Anderson version, not the Disney one -- incredibly quickly. Like, the Little Mermaid rises to the surface, meets the dashing young man, discovers he's really a prince, and returns to the sea in one scene. So, yeah, no need for intermission, and no soda for sale (again, a dinky little theater, although Julia was over the moon because the cast hung out in the lobby and autographed her playbill).
We were going to wait until we got to Friendly's to get our soda, but it had gotten pretty hot while we were in the theater, so we stopped at the grocery store for drinks instead. Julia is in a phase where she always wants to pay the cashier (the Smelmooo tells me he was like this, too, as a kid, whereas I didn't want to order for myself or pay the cashier until I was like 13), so I gave her a five-dollar bill at the check-out, which she handed to the clerk, a pony-tailed guy in his early 20s.
He handed me the receipt, and then put out his fist to drop the change in Julia's hand. She waited a second, confused, then made a fist, punched his outstretched hand, and said "'Sup?"
The cashier was completely startled for a second, as the change flew all over the counter; then he just shook his head, laughing, "That was AWESOME," scooped up the change and handed it to me.
I think we made his day.
Julia told me repeatedly that she'd be having water to drink with her lunch, because it's "healthy for my body" -- a tiny bit ironic, I thought, given that lunch was a grilled cheese sandwich, french fries and half of my hamburger, but still, a nice thought -- and would enjoy a soda for a treat during intermission at the play.
As it turns out, it's possible to tell the story of the Little Mermaid -- the original Hans Christian Anderson version, not the Disney one -- incredibly quickly. Like, the Little Mermaid rises to the surface, meets the dashing young man, discovers he's really a prince, and returns to the sea in one scene. So, yeah, no need for intermission, and no soda for sale (again, a dinky little theater, although Julia was over the moon because the cast hung out in the lobby and autographed her playbill).
We were going to wait until we got to Friendly's to get our soda, but it had gotten pretty hot while we were in the theater, so we stopped at the grocery store for drinks instead. Julia is in a phase where she always wants to pay the cashier (the Smelmooo tells me he was like this, too, as a kid, whereas I didn't want to order for myself or pay the cashier until I was like 13), so I gave her a five-dollar bill at the check-out, which she handed to the clerk, a pony-tailed guy in his early 20s.
He handed me the receipt, and then put out his fist to drop the change in Julia's hand. She waited a second, confused, then made a fist, punched his outstretched hand, and said "'Sup?"
The cashier was completely startled for a second, as the change flew all over the counter; then he just shook his head, laughing, "That was AWESOME," scooped up the change and handed it to me.
I think we made his day.
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