I remember one visit when we went to Safeway. We walked in the door. You were young, probably not 6 even. I gave you a twenty, said:
<< Don’t ask me ‘can I?’ you have your own money, make your own decisions. >>
I did that for all the right reasons. Firstly, I didn’t want you bugging me. Secondly, I’ve always wanted you to feel power — like you didn’t have to ask others for permission, stuff, skills, confidence, self-worth. Didn’t really work out but I did what I could.
You’re more than 10 years past the point when this father could influence who you were to become. I know those days and what they contained. I don’t know these days and what comes. Maybe you can help me with that.
Not sure where i’m going with this, but it’s where I am. Perhaps a line or two prove useful to you, you know, twenty years from now, and here’s the rest of that Safeway story:
So, Safeway.
We went through every stinking aisle. Cookies, Mac & Cheese, licorice, hot chocolate. I pushed the cart, you took a box of cookies off the shelf looked at me you said
“can I?”
I shrugged.
<< i dont know can you? >>
<< put whatever you want in the cart, you’ll sort it all out later. >>
Over by the rotisserie chicken stand we stopped. I went and got a second cart. You pulled each item out of the first, looked at it 3 different ways, did the math in your head.
“I really want this, but i want that more.”
<< ok >>
Everything you decided against you put into Cart #2. Done. You seemed satisfied with your decisions, and came in at right about $19. You, me and Cart #1 checked out. Didn’t even bother putting the other stuff away. Cart #2 sitting there sad, lonely.