Tower of Cars

As parents of a toddler, we were having our typical Saturday night fun by shopping for groceries at the local big box store. As were we finishing up, we strolled down the aisle of kids toys. We passed by a rocking horse, which Grafton refused to try out.  We passed by baby toy after baby toy, none of which were of any interest to our son.  But as we approached the end of the aisle, we entered the hallowed ground of miniature die-cast cars.  Grafton immediately took possession of the Hot Wheels Dynamite Blaster Launcher (with 5 cars), held it up high and yelled "This One! This One! Buy It!" We laughed at his exuberance and ability to hone in on his favorite toys. While Grafton continued examining his new favorite toy, Daddy was checking out the other selections of die cast cars nearby.  Grafton, seeing that Daddy was interested in a different box, came over to see if there was anything else that could possibly be better than the Dynamite Blast Launcher. And indeed there was! It was a tower of see-through plastic, which stood taller than our child, and packed with so many cars and vehicles that it would be years before he would have the number skills to count them all (there were at least a hundred cars in there).  This was clearly a package worthy of a big box store, being of a scale that was at home alongside 8 gallon jars of mayonnaise and 20 lb boxes of over-sized muffins. After the few milliseconds it took for Grafton to recognize this treasure trove of vehicular joy, he lunged at the box, seized it with a strangling hug half way up its length, pulled it from the bottom shelf, and started jumping up and down with it, while he squealed in a voice that was too loud even in a big box store.  It took a while for us to calm his excitement, but we were eventually able to extricate the item from his rigamortis-like grasp.  With the simple phrase, "Let's keep looking," Grafton calmly decided to follow us down the next aisle, perhaps with the expectation that an even better selection of toys was possible.  In fact there were larger truck toys on the next aisle, each of which Grafton reached for in turn.  And with incredible restraint and understanding, he put each one back of the shelf when we explained that we were not going to purchase it, and that we should "keep looking."  While that line seemed to do the trick of letting us move on, when the end of the aisle arrived and Dad repeated it one more time, Grafton happily turned the corner into the next aisle, and said "more trucks." And so Dad, knowing there would be no more toys to see, felt a sudden pang of guilt and remorse at the misdirection he used to get Grafton to move on.  But not quite enough guilt to go back and buy any of the toys.  Of course, Grafton's birthday is not far off, and perhaps there will be a way to make up for it.