We spend so much time being serious walking through life, not smiling at each other or ignoring each other completely and, just maybe, sometimes we shouldn’t be so afraid to smile or to crack a joke to a complete stranger, to have some fun in a completely unnecessary way, one you know will bring a little fun into each of your worlds, for no other reason than the fact we all could probably use a little more fun and reasons to smile.
My daughter and I were at the Jewel doing some grocery shopping the other day and when we got to the dairy case, she started begging me to buy whipped cream. My daughter loves whipped cream. A lot. I don’t know if this is because she didn’t get much of it in Russia or if it’s because everything tastes better with whipped cream on it, except for maybe toast, but I’m sure if I’d let her try that she would insist whipped cream makes toast taste better, too. Regardless, she loves the stuff and—do I dare admit it?—has been known to go through an entire can in less than a day.
“Alright,” I tell her. “I’ll get you some. But could you, you know, try to make it last more than fifteen or twenty-minutes?”
This is when the lady giving out free samples (of wine! I know! And I still didn’t try any!) gives us a shocked look.
“What are you doing?” she says as we walk by. I reel around on her, my hackles and defenses raised, thinking, If I want to let my daughter eat two-hundred cans of whipped cream in a day then it’s none of your business! She had a deprived childhood! If I want to spoil her completely rotten during the time I have to spoil her rotten then—
“How do you manage to keep it around for as long as twenty-minutes?” the Free-Samples Lady asks, breaking out into a big smile. “At our house, we only could manage about ten.”
And that’s what I’m talking about. My daughter and I giggled the whole rest of our way through the store. Thanks funny, sweet, Free-Samples Lady! It was like you, metaphorically speaking, added a little whipped cream to our day.
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