We were at the mall several months ago and Joey was wearing a cheap little bracelet with a gold price sticker on it. He spent most of the trip admiring the bracelet and commenting that it was his "most favorite thing ever." Suddenly and without warning, Joey threw himself down in the middle of the mall and proceeded to have the mother of all 4-year-old tantrums.
Not being a particularly patient or empathetic person, my response was pretty standard:
"I lost my sticker! My STICKER! From my most beautiful bracelet and favorite thing ever." (Joey really does talk like this, I have witnesses).
"Oh for the love of God, Joey, it was just the price sticker."
Unfortunately, my mom was in attendance, and if there was ever a person who will go out of her way to help soothe a broken hearted four-year-old, it's my mom. She spent 20 minutes scouring the mall for a sticker that was freckle-sized. And she found it. Because that's how Peg rolls.
Joey looked up at her, tears of joy shining in his eyes, and thanked his Nana. He then walked over to the nearest garbage can and dropped the sticker in. My mother looked at him, astonished.
"That sticker was garbage Nana. We hafta throw away stickers so we don't litter."
Story #106 that explains and supports our nickname for Joey.
|Photo courtesy of Rebecca Healy Photography|