Coining it in
Starbucks. I've covered that particular topic some time ago, but during an age when little minds weren't so decisive themselves. An age when portability meant pram, when you could have a happy baby all day long as long as the pram was moving.
That age is gone.
The time is nigh when the monster in our midst wants to have hands on everything, won't sit still in a pushchair, and as we saw yesterday knows when it's time for a coffee.
Mocchalattecinco,
please!It was a light and warm drizzle that was falling yesterday afternoon when we went for a late shopping trip. The wee fella had shorts on, no socks no shoes, and no cover on his pushchair.
This rain was slowly dampening his feet, much to his delight. Not as much as the delight expressed from over the canopy of the chair when we passed by Starbucks. This is a fairly new shop, and saying that he's only been in times numbering, well, not enough to fill a hand. But the excitement when we walked passed was unreal. Just turned two years old and well into the coffee culture already. He'll be the ruin of us financially if he carries on like that.
It was snack time for the family so we did go in. He was happy bouncing on the comfies near the door while MOTS got ours in (OK, rant time - I normally hate people who bag a seat while waiting for someone else in the queue, occupying space while those with coffee hunt for a seat, but it was quiet and there were other comfies available. So no double-standards creeping in, well not too much anyway). The coffee was up to usual standard, and as the gentleman on the table by our left finished and left with his daughter, the wee fella saw it as extra space to run about in. It went quiet for a few seconds. Then he appeared from behind his bag and held out both hands, a small reminder ran through my mind of the infamous scene in Dickens' "Oliver".
There, in one hand was a small coin. A small silver coin, the smallest of them all. And there, in the other, was another silver coin, the biggest of them all. Yes, he'd found 55p on the seat just vacated by that gentlemen on our left. Now I know why he plays with the coin return flap in the vending machines at the swimming pool, it's got nothing to do with the swing of the flap and the crashing noise it makes when it hits the front of the recess - he's looking for cold hard cash. And yesterday he hit the jackpot!
That's my boy!
Thanks to his Grandpa for getting him the new design coins from the Royal Mint for his birthday, it was obviously the incentive he needed to go out and make his own!
Comments
And on Monday - Mummy paid the hard earned 55p into his savings account along with his birthday money! Never let it be said that we would exploit child labour and pocket the cash ourselves!!
Posted by: MOTS | September 2, 2008 9:19 AM