Pringle Boy

Yesterday I ran into our local Walgreens drug store, for some chips that my daughter needed, for a party that she was attending, at the summer camp where she volunteers. In front of me in line, was a young father and his adorable two, maybe three-year-old son. The father, it seemed, had just run into the store, quickly, for some batteries. The son lagged behind the father as they headed to the cashier to pay. The little boy saw a can of pizza flavored Pringles right at his level, and he grabbed the can very decidedly. As his dad was paying for the batteries, the little guy assertively put the can of Pringles on the counter (well, actually, the part of the counter that is a little lower, where they keep the plastic bags) with a firm, confident bang. “BAM! We’ll be taking these Pringles, too,” are what his very clear actions seemed to say.

“Do you want to buy those, too?” the cashier hesitantly asked the young father. The little boy smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

“Uh, uh, well, uh, um, sure, why not?” said the Dad and he looked at me, a little sheepishly. I just smiled, knowingly. I had been through that drill many times throughout the years. The little boy confidently grabbed the Pringles can and kissed the top of the lid, as they headed out of the store.

The cashier and I had a fun conversation about what we had just witnessed.

“It usually doesn’t go that way for the kids,” said the cashier. “I’ve honestly never seen a little guy so sure of himself. Usually, the kids are more sneaky and whiny about the whole thing.”

“I’m guessing that if he had been with Mom, that it may have gone the other way,” I giggled and the cashier agreed. When I relayed the event to my husband last night, he said, “The Dad was probably figuring that he’d get to eat at least half the can.”

There really wasn’t anything particularly unusual about this happening. I am not even sure why I am writing about it. Still, the experience sticks with me. I guess that I found it to be cute and nostalgic. I also liked the little boy’s happy, self-assured confidence. In some way, a three-year-old little boy inspired me, a 48-year-old woman, to have a little more swagger. When you go for things that you want with happy pluck and assurance, I think that you get a little more favor towards the outcome that you are wanting. I know that I was secretly rooting for the boy to get his Pringles. And I relished in his triumphant joy, as he kissed the top of the can.