One of my granddaughters and I made an early-morning sojourn to Dollar General on Saturday. Having no milk or cereal in the house pretty much constituted an emergency, and since the good ol' DG is right around the corner, it won out over the Food Lion that is four miles away.
Now, if you're a regular customer/devotee of the DG, you know that while they are a godsend in a pinch, they also carry the type of merchandise that eight year olds love to ooh and aah over. So before we left the driveway, I gave Miss Thing the lowdown. "We are going in there for cereal, milk and dog food...nothing more. Do you understand me?" I got an angelic smile and a "Yes, Nana", which I should have known was a con. An act.
We managed to choose cereal with a minimum of angst, grabbed a gallon of milk and a bag of puppy food, and headed towards the front. Unfortunately, the route to the cash registers took us right past all of the little notebooks, journals, and writing materials that this child is so fond of. She stopped and began running her hands over a faux patchwork leather journal. "Oooh...don't you just love this, Nana?" Then she cut those green eyes up at me and batted her eyelashes.
Being a seasoned mother and grandmother, I knew she was making a vain attempt at charm. Putting a firm smile on my face, I said, "yes, it is very pretty. Come on. We've gotten everything!"
Her lower lip began to tremble just a little, and it would have been just enough to inspire sympathy if it had been anyone else but me. "I love this, Nana. Won't you buy it for me? Please?"
"No. I told you before we came in here that I wouldn't be buying anything else. Come on. Let's go."
Nothing. She gave me a mutinous look that said Hell no, I'm not moving until you buy me this $2.00 journal. I shrugged and said, "I'm leaving. Coming along?" I made my way to the cash register, throwing an occasional look behind me. Miss Thing was dragging her feet, face red, lower lip stuck out so far she could have tripped on it.
By the time I got to the register, MT was standing at the very end of the aisle, peeking at me from around a shelf of Halloween markdowns. At this point Nana had had enough. I pulled out The Voice. If you're a parent or grandparent, you know what I'm talking about...where you don't raise your voice, but you deepen and project. It's an attention-getter. I looked straight at her, pointed my finger, and said, "Julie, NOW!" She didn't lose the mutinous look, but she made tracks.
The cashier, who had been putting some merchandise away behind the counter, literally dropped a couple of boxes, looked at me and said "Oh, my gawd. The way you sounded, I thought you were my Mama. I almost stood straight up and said, 'Yes, ma'am!' I really thought my mama had come down here to bless me out!" I beamed and told her she'd made my day.
I've still got it. Makes a nana proud.
