"You're my first!"
Mar. 6th, 2005 07:42 pmThis morning, we were out of milk and bananas, so I had to make a quick run to the grocery store. As I walked in, I spotted one of the true signs of the coming of Spring, lurking there by the opening, her low card table groaning under its burden: the Girl Scout and her cookies. She leapt up at me. "Do you want buy some Girl Scout Cookies?"
I told her that I would see her again on my way out. I got what I needed and, indeed, on the way out, stopped at the table and bought five boxes. She was a little thing, maybe ten, with frizzy brown hair and a vest festooned with badges. She took the money and gathered up the boxes, dumping them into the canvas sack I had brought with me. "Wow," she said, her voice trembling with excitement, "You're my first!"
It didn't even occur to me until I got home that that line was freighted with possibilities. Ah, well. They say that as you get older the part of your brain that inhibits you from saying the first thing that comes to mind decays slightly. I think mine is going the other way.
I told her that I would see her again on my way out. I got what I needed and, indeed, on the way out, stopped at the table and bought five boxes. She was a little thing, maybe ten, with frizzy brown hair and a vest festooned with badges. She took the money and gathered up the boxes, dumping them into the canvas sack I had brought with me. "Wow," she said, her voice trembling with excitement, "You're my first!"
It didn't even occur to me until I got home that that line was freighted with possibilities. Ah, well. They say that as you get older the part of your brain that inhibits you from saying the first thing that comes to mind decays slightly. I think mine is going the other way.
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