The Fire Engine
Not everyone has the patience or tolerance.
It was clear the girl in the shopping cart seat was the fire engine today. Or at least it was the last thing that stuck in her head when she entered the store because she imitated it nonstop while Kane was shopping next to her.
Her mother didn’t seem to mind. No, she went about sorting through the meats while her daughter modulated up and down with her voice while her toddler son stacked soda cans higher and higher nearby. His stacking did no harm unless someone brushed the cans the wrong way and then there would be a mess on the floor. But that would probably be long after the small family was out the door.
As one who distinctly remembered his years as a toddler, Kane gave mothers with kids a lot of latitude in stores. They had to shop and look after fidgety kids who wanted everything the highly paid commercial designers put at the kids’ eye level. Even the more disciplined mothers would give in at least once during their trip to the store, something the store big shots counted on.
Kane stopped and smiled at the little girl. “Are you a fire engine today?”
She looked over at her mom for approval to speak with this stranger. Her mom smiled and nodded.
The little girl nodded.
“Good. We need more fire engines in this town. I like that sound. Keep right on going, Sweetie.”
And she did.
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